The Weak and the Weary
by bambers2
Summary: After a year of false hopes and dead ends, Dean faces the reality of his life ending deal for his brother. But things may not be all as they seem when a new deal is struck sending the brothers down a much different path. 2nd. of Angels and Demons series
1. Chapter 1

_So, this is the second in my Angels and Demons series. The story is set at the end of season three, sort of my own virtual season four. As always, i don't own Sam or Dean or any of the characters from Supernatural, they're all Wonderful Kripke's, and i just love to play with them!! thanks for reading!! Should mention that to understand this it is probably best to read When Angels Close Their Eyes before reading this as there are new characters who were introduced in the first of the series. bambers;)_

_The Weak and the Weary_

_Chapter One_

"Why the hell do you always get the bed by the door?" Jax grumbled as Sam threw his stuff onto the floor.

"Cause I said so," Sam simply stated as he bent and carefully placed Dean's knife under his pillow.

Jax stared at his clothes, now scattered all over ground, and clenched his fists, trying to remain calm, but the older man was really starting to get on his nerves. "Nick would've let me sleep by the door."

"Well, Nick's not here, so we can either do things my way . . . or you can go sleep in the car."

"Dean's not here either," Jax stalked to where Sam was standing, snatched the knife out from under the pillow and threw it across the room. The tip of the blade lodged in the wall and stuck there. "But, then again, he doesn't need ta be cause he takes up more of this freakin' room than both of us put together." He hated arguing with Sam, but after about three weeks of doing everything the hunter said without question, and still being no closer to finding out what had happened to Nick, Jax was beginning to wonder if Sam actually knew what he was doing. "He's gone, Sam, an' I'm sorry, but placin' a freakin' knife under what would've been his pillow isn't gonna magically bring Dean back, no matter how much you wish it would."

"Wasn't doing that for Dean," Sam hissed in anger as he strode to the wall and yanked out the knife, "was doing that to protect you."

"Keep tellin' yerself that, Sam, someday ya may actually start believin' it."

"Look who's talking," Sam shook his head in disgust, "all I hear about is Nick. Every damn freakin' minute of the day. 'When we gonna start lookin' for Nick? Think Nick might just be in hiding somewhere? You think Nick might have headed for Mexico'," Sam glanced up at Jax, hazel eyes stormy with anger, "like Mexico is some freakin' demon free zone. An' if he could've just made it there, he might be in some bar drinkin' shots right now waiting for you to come find him."

"Oh, an' this coming from the guy who sees his dead brother everywhere," Jax scoffed, rolling his eyes. "'Oh, thought I just saw Dean in the mini-mart'. 'Hey, wasn't that Dean doin' his laundry in his underwear'. 'Man, I swear that guy over there looked like Dean for a moment.'" Jax chuckled, "course the guy was like ninety an' used a walker, but hey, maybe death ages ya real fast."

"You just about finished?" Sam glared at him, eyes narrowing considerably.

"Yeah, except for one last thing . . . ." Jax quirked a brow as his gaze shifted briefly to the other side of the room, "I get the first shower," and before he'd even finished saying it, he darted toward the bathroom. "An' it's gonna be a really long one, afraid there won't be any hot water left for you." Laughing at Sam's look of utter frustration, he slammed the door behind him.

Sam trudged over to the bed, slumped down onto it, shoulders sagging, and looked at the knife in his hand. His brother had always kept it nearby, always assumed it would keep them both safe from whatever lurked in the darkness. However, deals didn't hunt you down as you slept, they came at you when your eyes were wide open. And now all he had left was a knife to represent what his brother had been, and memories to stab at his heart.

But what Dean had failed to consider was what Sam was thinking right now as guilt tore a hole so deep in his soul that at times he could scarcely breathe it hurt so much. In his death, Dean had become the weapon that was slowly, day by day, killing Sam with sharper precision than any blade ever could. And what terrified Sam more than anything was that he wished for it, welcomed it, praying for the release it would bring.

Lightly tracing a path over the veins in his wrist with the tip of the blade, he recalled how his brother had attacked him as he walked out of the bathroom, hit him over the head with some object, and then tied him to a chair. The blade bit a little deeper into his skin as he remembered the look on Dean's face as he sedated Sam, the sadness in his green eyes, lashes wet with unshed tears.

The feel of cold steel slicing through his flesh went virtually unnoticed as in his mind he heard the last words his brother ever said to him. _I'm so sorry, Sammy, but I can't be strong . . . can't do this if you are there to see it_. _You have to understand, as long as I remain strong they didn't win . . . please just let me have this, it's the only thing I've ever asked for . . . an' don't hate me for it_.

Blood trickled down his forearm as tears slid down his cheeks, but all he could see was the look in Dean's eyes before he stood and headed for the door. Turning back, he smiled at Sam but the slight tremor in his hands belied the brave front he was trying to give for Sam's benefit. _Love ya, Sammy, you take care of yourself. _Then he was gone.

Gone, and yet Jax was right, the memory of Dean lingered in the air, pressing in on Sam. He saw him everywhere, could smell the musky scent of his aftershave, could hear his laughter. And as the knife pierced his artery and blood spurted deep and rich from it, Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

Sam watched in awe as blood dripped from his wrist to the floor, wondering for a moment if Dean would forgive him for being so weak when he'd remained so strong. But in the end, it really didn't matter. Dean wasn't there, and in truth he'd done the same thing. Not with a knife, but with a deal, and Sam couldn't see where there was any difference between the two.

"Sam?" Jax called out to the older man as he strode out of the bathroom, brows furrowing in confusion when Sam failed to respond. "Yer not still mad are ya?" he asked as he headed over to where Sam was sitting on the bed. His blue-green eyes widened considerably as his heart rapidly dropped into the pit of his stomach, seeing blood dripping from Sam's wrist. "Oh, God, Sam, what the hell did you do?" He stared in disbelief at Sam, not wanting to believe what he was seeing. "Why the hell would you do this?"

Rushing back to the bathroom, Jax grabbed several clean towels, and sprinted back to Sam. He quickly wrapped the towels around Sam's wrist, blood rapidly soaking through. "Not gonna let you die on me, you hear me, Sam? Not gonna let you do this." Jax ran over to the table and grabbed the first aid kit off of it, and hurried back to Sam. Grabbing all the rolls of gauze out of the box, he removed the towels and wound the gauze around his friend's wrist securing it tightly.

"It's gonna be okay, Sam, gonna take care of ya," Jax uttered in a strained voice, trying his best to sound reassuring, "just gotta get ya ta a hospital."

"No," Sam shook his head, "jus' wanna stay here . . . jus' go Jax."

"Things will get better, Sam," Jax glanced at his own wrist, the thick black band covering his own scars, and doubted Sam would believe him as Jax knew deep down things never got any better. "Know it doesn't seem like it right now, but they do."

"Jus' real tired . . . real tired . . . want it to be over."

"Yeah, know exactly how that feels." Jax helped Sam to his feet and led him out of the motel room. "Know it doesn't count for much, Sam, an' I know I'm not Dean, but I'm not going anywhere."

"Why'd he do it, Jax?" Sam looked to him for answers, and Jax just shrugged in response, not knowing what to say to make it all right that Dean had made a deal. "Why couldn't he have just left me to stay dead. When you're dead nothin' hurts anymore . . . an' right now it hurts so damn much, you have no idea how much."

"I know it does, believe me, I know." Jax guided Sam into the passenger's seat of the Impala, and ran around to the other side, flung open the door, and slid into the seat. Starting the engine, Jax backed up and then threw the car in drive, peeling out of the parking lot.

"Have to remember to breathe cause it hurts too much . . . a person shouldn't have to remember to breathe."

"A person shouldn't have to feel the guilt for something someone else did either." Jax peered down at his own wrist again, and thought of his mother. "It's not yer fault, Sam. What Dean did is not yer fault, got that? Ya can't blame yerself."

"Did it fer me," Sam mumbled, his eyelids sliding closed. "Makes it my fault."

Jax took a quick left, hitting hard on the accelerator when he glanced down and saw blood dripping through the bandages, and then noticed the color leaving Sam's face. Blowing through stop signs and traffic lights, car tires screeching and blaring horns all around him, Jax blocked them out, his only thoughts on getting Sam to the hospital. He made it to the hospital in record time, and pulling right up the emergency door, he stopped the car, flung open the door and ran around to Sam's side to help him out.

"Come on, Sam, everything's gonna be okay," he said, more to reassure himself than Sam. "Their gonna take real good care of ya." Hooking his arm around Sam's waist, Jax hauled him out of the car, and practically dragged him through the double sliding doors. "Need some help here," he hollered the moment he was inside, and several nurses and a doctor rushed over to him with a gurney.

As they helped Sam onto the gurney, and wheeled him away in a hurry, one nurse stayed behind. "Can you tell me what happened," she calmly asked as Jax helplessly watched Sam disappear behind the closed doors of the emergency room.

"Dunno," he shook his head, trembling with fear that he hadn't made it to the hospital in time. "Was fine . . . really thought he was fine . . . I mean we were arguin', but we always argue." Jax brusquely raked his fingers through his hair. "Shouldn't have mention Dean. Tell him I'm sorry . . . make sure he knows that . . . I mean I didn't know . . . ." his voice trailed off as he looked once again to where he'd seen the doctors take Sam.

The nurse took him by the arm and led him over to a seat, and sat beside him. "Has your friend been depressed a lot lately?

Jax looked incredulously at her, not understanding why she would ask such a stupid question. "Sliced his wrist open, think that pretty much qualifies him as depressed."

"Guess what I should say is has he ever tried to hurt himself before?"

"Dunno . . . all I know is that he's the only friend I got an' you need ta make him better. Understand me," Jax narrowed his eyes on her, swallowing hard against the painful lump forming in his throat, "you do what ya gotta do, but you make better."

"The doctors are going to do everything they can for him," the nurse said as she stood, a compassionate smile gracing her features as she looked down at him. "Is there any family I can notify for you?"

Jax thought of Bobby, but realized Sam wouldn't want him to know. It wasn't like getting injured on a hunt. That was understandable, and a part of their lives. Jax also feared that Bobby would look at Sam differently if he knew what Sam had done to himself. He understood first hand that people who hadn't lived it, hadn't felt a pain so deep and so intense in their hearts they could see nothing else, would never understand that sometimes death was the only way out. Sometimes living was just too damn hard. And sometimes just saying that everything was going to be okay wasn't even close to being enough. In fact, it didn't even scratch the surface.

"No, I'm the only family he's got." Maybe it wasn't the truth in the strictest sense of the word, but for all they shared in common, they might as well have been related. "He's my brother."

"Alright, I'll have someone come to get you as soon as they know anything." She turned and headed for the ER.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Jax had been sitting in the waiting area for the longest time, and every time some one came out of the emergency room, he would glance up, hoping it was news of Sam. He was so lost in thought, that he failed to hear someone speaking to him, until they cleared their throat in a loud and irritating manner.

"Excuse me, my name is Doctor Fitzwater," The short, balding doctor said, "Nurse Parkinson said you were Sam's brother."

With heart pounding fiercely inside his chest, Jax was on his feet in an instant. "How is he?"

The doctor's stern gaze met and held Jax's for a moment, and then he looked to his medical notes on the clipboard he carried. "He cut pretty deeply into his artery, but we were able to repair the damage. However, there is some concern that there may be permanent damage to his tendons, and the ulnar and median nerves to his hand."

"But he is gonna be okay . . . I mean, there was a lot of blood . . . ." Jax's voice trailed off as he mentally recalled seeing the blood covering Sam's faded jeans and dripping onto the tan carpeting. "An awful lot of it."

"He did lose a fair amount of blood, but you got him here in time, an' we were able to take care of that." Doctor Fitzwater cleared his throat again, his bushy brows furrowing as he looked Jax in the eyes. "But right now, we are more concerned about his mental state. We would like to admit him as a psychiatric patient for observation."

"An' what did Sam have to say about that?" Jax asked, not liking the sound of it at all. From his experience, psychiatrists asked loaded questions and then turned around everything you said until you fit the text book definition of a crazy person. And if it were up to him, there would be no way in hell he would allow Sam to go through that. But it wasn't up to him, it was Sam's choice, and if Sam thought it was what he needed then Jax would stand beside him in that decision.

"He hasn't said a word since he came in here. So we thought maybe you could speak to him, make him understand that it is for his own good."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen," Jax said with a single shake of his head.

"But — "

"Said, I'm not gonna try an' make him see a shrink," Jax said more firmly. "Wanna see him now."

After a few moments of staring in disbelief at Jax, the doctor gave a curt nod. "Alright, I'll take you to see him, but I don't think you are doing him any favors by not getting him the help he needs."

"Really wasn't askin' your opinion, now take me to my brother."


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much for reading and for the awesome reviews, they really mean the world to me! bambers;)_

_Chapter Two_

Sam glanced down at the bandage wrapped around his wrist, and tears welled in his eyes. For a moment all the pain had seemed to slip away as his blood flowed from his veins, but now it had returned once more to torment him. His heart ached with a longing and sadness he couldn't quite define, and he didn't know how to make it go away. He just wanted it to be over, wanted to stop running and just have it all end.

His mind was so full of voices and sounds, and memories that never left him, not even as he slept at night. His thoughts always on things he could have done differently, should have done differently, but it was too late. And no one would understand that, least of all Dean. Dean, who thought Sam could make it on his own, who thought his own life was less important, who couldn't see that Sam needed him every bit as much if not more. No, all Dean could see was that he had to protect Sam at all costs, but if that were true then where the hell was he right now? He'd failed in his job. Failed miserably.

A subtle knock on the hospital room door brought Sam out of his musings, and he turn to see Jax standing there. For a moment, they stared at each other. Without a word, Sam shifted back in his bed to glance out the window, and somehow felt it was fitting that his room overlooked a cemetery. 

"Sam?" came Jax's voice from beside him, and Sam thought it odd for a moment that he hadn't heard him actually enter the room. "You okay?"

Sam couldn't turn to face him, couldn't stand the thought of what he'd see if he did. He'd been in the hospital many times in his life, and had always seen the concern etched in his brother and father's faces when he'd been seriously injured on a hunt. That was understandable. This wasn't. This wasn't even close to the realm of understandable. 

"They wanna admit ya as a . . . ." Jax's voice trailed off, but he didn't have to finish the sentence for Sam to know what the doctors wanted. "Told them no . . . I mean, I dunno . . . unless you want."

"What are you doing here, Jax?" Sam asked, swallowing hard against the feeling of condemnation he thought he detected in Jax's tone. "Don't you get it? Can't help you . . . couldn't help Dean . . . huh, pretty much can't freakin' help anyone."

"Said, I wasn't goin' anywhere, Sam. Meant that."

"An' if I want you to go?" Sam finally turned to look at him, and lowered his head when he saw the look of pity in the younger man's eyes. 

"Guess you'd have ta get out of that bed an' kick my ass outta here, anythin' less an' I'm staying where I am." Jax cracked a smile, then pensively bit at his lower lip. "Course, think I could probably take ya in a fight right about now, so ya should probably stay where ya are."

Sam was silent for the longest time as he looked anywhere in the room but at Jax. "Aren't you gonna ask why? I mean, everyone else has. You know morbid curiosity an' all. Either that or people just like to make themselves feel better by knowing how screwed up other people's lives are compared to their own."

"Naw, think I can pretty much figure it out," Jax said as he took a seat beside Sam.

"Really, huh," Sam shifted to his side to look at Jax, "care to give me your wondrous insight cause I'm not even really sure I recall doing it."

"Know exactly how ya were feelin' Sam." Brusquely raking his fingers through his hair, Jax then leaned forward in his seat, resting his forearms on his thighs. "Think you're lost. Think ya were looking for a way out, an' I guess it just seemed like a good way ta end all the pain ya were feelin'."

"How could you possibly know that."

Jax lowered his head, eyes downcast, his hand shifting to cover the black leather band he always wore around his right wrist. "Guess cause I've been there." Slowly as if he really didn't want to, Jax unsnapped the two silver buckles on the band, and removed it, turning his arm over to expose two long vertical scars. He glanced up at Sam and then looked at the scars again. "Not somethin' I'm really proud of," he drew in a shaky breath, then continued, "especially since my brother was the one who found me, an' for a long time after that I hated him for it."

"Why?" was all Sam could think to say.

It was Jax's turn to remain silent as tears shimmered in his eyes, and just when Sam thought he wasn't going to actually respond, he began, "Was my thirteenth birthday, mine and Nick's. My mother had made us this huge cake, our names were on it an' everything," he paused to take a breath as he ran his trembling fingers across the scars. Heaving a deep weary sigh, he continued, "Don't know where my Dad was, probably out drinkin', I dunno, but it still seemed perfect . . . well, except for the fact that my Mom was wearing dark sunglasses an' it was already nighttime. Not sure if it was ta hide the fact that she'd been cryin' or ta cover the bruises."

"Your Dad beat up your Mother?" Sam asked, not wanting to believe that anyone would purposely harm someone they supposedly loved, yet knew it happened all the time.

Jax gave a subtle nod. "But he was gone, an' it was a good day . . . a really good day. An' then she cut the cake, it had green frosting on it, Nick had wanted blue, but she'd made it green for me." 

Sam's attention was diverted once more to the scars on Jax's wrist, and noticed the longer he spoke of what had happened, the harder he dug into them with his nails, leaving thin trails of blood against the raised scars. Briefly, he thought to stop him from continuing with the story, but his own need to know he wasn't alone won out in the end.

"She cut us both pieces, kissed us on the forehead, sayin' how much she loved us, and then turned ta walk into her bedroom. An' I should have called her back . . . should have known, but I didn't." A single tear slipped down his cheek as he closed his eyes. "Couldn't have been more than five minutes later, an' I heard my father's gun go off," Jax scrubbed his hand across his face, wiping away the tears now falling in earnest. "An' I just sat there, mouth full of cake, not wantin' — I mean, if I just sat there, she would be alright. Ya know, I really thought that . . . thought she would be okay."

"Jax — " Sam tried to cut him off, not wanting to hear anymore, but Jax didn't even seem to hear him.

"Remember gettin' up, dumping the rest of my cake in the garbage, even washed the plate so she wouldn't have ta do it later. Didn't even realize Nick wasn't there . . . that he was already in there with her. An' then finally I went in her room, an' there he was," he touched his face, fingers trembling uncontrollably, "an' he was . . . his hand was covering her face, an' he was covered in her blood, an' he was beggin me ta help him — an' I just stood there, couldn't move, couldn't breathe."

"Wasn't your fault, Jax."

"Not what my Father said." Jax shook his head. "Told me so himself. Said she killed herself cause of me . . . cause she never wanted me . . . wished I'd never been born — an' I loved her so much, so damn much. How could he — why did he have ta tell me something like that? An' why did she hate me so much that much that she had ta do that?"

Sam had no idea what to say. From what little he knew, he'd assumed Jax had a real bad childhood, but he'd never imagine it would be this bad. "Think she loved you Jax."

"Naw, she loved him." Jax feigned a smile, but it quickly faded as he looked once more to his scars. "Beat the shit out of her, an' yet she still loved him. Just always wondered why she couldn't love me. What did I do so wrong?"

"Don't think you did anything wrong."

Jax gestured toward the bandage around Sam's wrist, and gave a shake of his head. "An' neither did you."

Whether Jax had done it intentionally or it just happened that way, he'd twisted the focus back to Sam, but the situations were not the same. Jax's mother died because she had killed herself. Dean had died because of Sam. And no matter how much he might have wished it were different, he couldn't run away from the fact that his brother would be alive if it hadn't been for him. "Not the same thing. If I hadn't died, Dean would've never made the deal. He's dead because of me."

"Are ya even listenin' ta yerself?" Jax quirked a brow, and heaved an aggravated groan. "If ya hadn't died, like ya had any control over that happening. Give yerself a little break here."

"Dean wouldn't have let me die," Sam argued, not liking the idea of Jax trying to let him off the hook for Dean's death, "if I'd made the deal instead of him, he would've found someway out of it."

"Yeah, by selling his soul. Hell, it could've been like a freakin' game of soul stealing ping-pong, back an' forth, back an' forth, course at some point someone has ta lose."

"It's not like that, Jax."

"Oh, no?" Jax sat back in his seat, crossing his arms. "Cause from where I'm sittin' it's exactly like that. I'd even go so far as ta bet that ya tried ta sell yer soul ta save him after he was already dead." He glanced up at Sam, looking him dead in the eyes. "Tell me I'm wrong, Sam, would really love ta be wrong here, but I know I'm not." When Sam remained silent, glaring at Jax, he added, "Huh, thought so. May not know as much about demons and hunting as ya, dude, but I'm seriously thinkin' that if ya sell yer soul ta them it means they've won."

"They won the moment Dean died." Sam turned back to look out the hospital room window at the rows and rows of gray marble headstones in the graveyard. "They know it, I know it, but the only one who doesn't seem to get it is you."

"Hell, guess that makes me the smart one then." Jax chuckled as Sam swung back to glare at him. "An' I'll tell ya this much, Sam, we're so not gonna do this whole hospital thing again, got me?" Brows furrowing together, he narrowed his eyes on Sam. "I'm not lettin' ya give up, even if it means I have to be yer constant shadow. Lost too many damn people already in my life, an' as yer the only friend I got, not about ta lose ya, too."

A faint smile graced Sam's face at the strong determination he saw in Jax's eyes, so reminiscent of Dean's, and then gave a curt nod. "Never said we were friends."

"True, but ya gotta admit I'm growin' on ya." Jax's smiled as he replaced the black band around his wrist then hitched a thumb over his shoulder, "never cared much for hospitals, what say we get the hell outta here before some old gray-haired lady tries ta give ya a sponge bath?" He glanced up at Sam, and smirked, "Course that is unless ya want some gray-haired old lady ta give ya sponge bath." He feigned an exaggerated shudder. "Don't know ya all that well, ya might really go in for that sorta thing."

"No, definitely not the old lady sponge bath type," Sam rolled his eyes, his smile deepening, "an' you know you're a pain in my ass don't ya?"

"Yeah," he grinned as he nudged his head toward the door, "let's get the hell outta here."

"Jax. . . ." Sam's voice trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say.

"Yeah?"

"You know . . . ummm . . . thanks for — "

"Aww, damn it, Sam, don't ruin this perfectly good male bonding moment with some weepy Hallmark cardlike gesture." He paused for a moment, cocking a brow, a lopsided grin settling on his features. "An' I swear if ya try an' hug me, don't care what I said earlier, I'll leave yer sorry ass here."

"You're such a jerk." The words slipped out before Sam could stop them, and unconsciously held his breath, almost expecting to hear Dean's customary bitch reply coming from Jax.

"Wow, that was a weak comeback, Sam," he chuckled, "I'm a jerk," he laughed all the harder, "really gonna have ta work on yer insults cause it almost feels like I'm arguing with a five-year-old."

"Bitch."

"Better, definitely better, but next time say it with more feelin' so it leaves no doubt in anyone's mind that yer really pissed at me."

"Let's just get the hell out of here before I kick your ass. Which I'm pretty sure will leave no doubt in your mind that I'm really pissed at you."

"Sounds good ta me."


	3. Chapter 3

_thanks to everyone who is reading...hopefully you are still enjoying this series as there is a lot more to come with it...thanks for the awesome reviews!! bambers;)_

_Chapter Three_

"So tell me again what salting and burning some vengeful spirit has ta do with findin' my brother," Jax asked for what must have been at least the sixth time as he and Sam strode through the grocery store looking for medical supplies to replenish what they had used.

"Told you already. Not gonna let you go looking for your brother until I'm sure you know what the hell you're doing."

Sam sighed wearily, lightly rubbing his sore wrist. The doctors had refused to give him anything for the pain as they felt he might try to overdose on it. Jax had argued with them at the time, but no matter what he'd said they still refused. To Sam it was almost laughable as if he'd really wanted to try and kill himself again, he had a multitude of weapons at his disposal, ones that were more than guaranteed to get the job done right.

"Put it back," Sam muttered as out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Jax pocketing something.

"Only a pack of gum, Sam."

"Yeah, right, and Ho-Ho's from aisle one, an' God knows what else you've stolen since we've walked in the door.

"Must've missed the condoms I swiped while you were gettin' gauze," Jax chuckled as he gestured toward the front of the store. "See that hot lookin' brunette workin' at the service desk? Think I might like me some of that."

Sam rolled his eyes, heaving an aggravated groan. "You want that crap then use the credit card I gave you, cause you aren't stealing it."

"Not using that card," Jax said with a single shake of his head.

"Why the hell not?"

"Cause I ain't havin' some hot chick think my name is Barney Finklestien."

Sam had a hard time suppressing a laugh, knowing that he'd refused to use the card himself when Dean had given it to him for nearly the exact reason. "Then you're putting all that stuff back. Not gonna risk going to jail cause you wanted fresh minty breath for some hot girl."

"'Kay, so let me get this straight," Jax said as he reluctantly pulled all the stuff he'd stolen out of his pockets. Sam's eyes rounded in surprise as he yanked out the gum, condoms, Ho-Ho's, a couple of chocolate candy bars, a bottle of soda, and a small bag of chips. "We don't shoplift, but credit card fraud is just fine an' dandy as far as yer concerned. Just outta curiosity, which one do ya think carries a higher jail time in the grand scheme of things?"

"Well, as you spent time in jail for shoplifting, I'm gonna go with the one that we're less likely to get caught doing, an' not really worry which one carries a higher percent of jail time."

"Point taken, but I still ain't using that card," Jax argued as he chucked the stuff he'd stolen onto a shelf lined with baking supplies. "An' I still say we aren't going to dig up some grave tonight. You just got outta the freakin' hospital, an' I know yer hand is hurtin' ya."

"Said I was fine," Sam said, a little more gruffly than he'd intended, but didn't like the reminder that he'd just gotten out of the hospital, let alone to have to think of why he'd been there in the first place. "An' we are going out tonight, the quicker we get this over with the faster we can go lookin' for your brother."

"Yer fine? Really?" Jax glared at him for a moment, and Sam could tell by the look on the younger man's face that he didn't believe what Sam was saying even for a minute. "Huh, okay." Jax grabbed a five-pound bag of sugar off the shelf and held it out to Sam. "Here, take it." Sam reached for it with his right hand, but Jax pulled back, and shook his head. "No, with your left hand. If ya can hold it for five minutes then I swear we'll go out tonight, but if ya can't we wait."

"Whatever." Sam snatched the bag of sugar out of his hand, and tried hard not to grimace as agonizing pain shot through his fingertips and rushed down his arm. "Not a problem," he managed to grit out through clenched teeth.

"See, here's the thing, Sam. The doctor said that ya probably did permanent damage ta the nerves and tendons in yer hand, so I'm pretty much guessin' that hurts like hell." Jax crossed his arms in a defiant gesture, a cocky smirk settling on his features as he arched a brow. "So the way I see it, either ya just admit yer not fine or I'm gonna make ya stand here the whole five freakin' minutes holdin' that thing, an' we're still not going out to hunt tonight."

Sam didn't even get the chance to argue as the strength in his hand gave out, his wrist bending backward as the bag of sugar dropped to the floor. Splitting open, crystal white granules of sugar spilled all over the tiled floor.

"One day," Sam clutched his hand to his chest, holding it protectively with the other, "one day an' then I'm going out hunting with or without you." Without another word, he strode away from Jax.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Dean glanced over to the passenger's seat and noticed how tired Joshua looked, dark circles forming under the little boy's bright blue eyes from lack of sleep. Although Joshua never complained, always seemed interested in the game he liked to call hide and seek on Sammy, Dean realized he couldn't continue to drag him around at all hours of the night.

It had been almost three weeks since Michael had come to Dean at the crossroads with a new deal to watch over Joshua in return for his life. And after briefly losing Joshua to Rowan, Dean vowed not to let his new charge out his sights for more than a second. Easier said than done as little Joshua liked to wander and talk to everyone he met along the way. No matter where they traveled, people young and old seemed to be instantly taken with Joshua's charm and tenacious curiosity. Oftentimes Dean had to nearly drag Joshua away from the crowds that always seem to gather around him.

But in the past few days, he'd noticed a change in the little boy. Joshua had slept for longer and longer periods of time, and when he was awake, he was abnormally quiet. Yet, he'd never once said a word when Dean would make camp outside of some no named motel Sam was spending the night at, and Dean was beginning to feel more than a little guilty for not taking better care of him.

"Tired, Jay?"

"Not so much, Chipmunk." Covering his mouth with his hand, Joshua yawned. "Got a tummy ache."

"You hungry? You barely touched your lunch or breakfast?" Dean asked concernedly. He narrowed his gaze on the little boy and noticed for the first time how flushed Joshua appeared. With the back of his hand, he checked Joshua's forehead, and frowned when he detected a slight fever. "Think maybe we better rent a room for the night, Jay, you don't look so good."

"What about hide-n-seek on Sammy?" Joshua looked up at him with pleading eyes, a faint smile on his little face. "Never gonna find us if we hide that good, Chipmunk."

"He's not supposed to find us, told you that before." Dean looked toward the room he'd seen Sam go into earlier that night, and pensively bit at his lower lip. The lights in the room were now out, and he wondered briefly if his brother had remembered to place saltlines along the door and windowsill.

"When's it gonna be his turn to find us?"

"Five months and ten days from now," Dean said more to himself than to Joshua, thinking how truly long that sounded when said aloud.

Joshua leaned forward until he could see over the dashboard and sighed wearily. "Don't think I like this game anymore, Chipmunk."

"Neither do I, Jay," Dean replied as his thoughts went to the younger hunter who was Sam's constant shadow, the man he'd seen save his brother's life, and his scowl deepened. Although he should have been glad that the man had been there when Sam was being beaten up by three men in the back alley of the Thunderback Tavern, all Dean could feel now was anger and something akin to betrayal.

As he watched from a distance, never allowed to chance getting close enough to see one of Sam's winsome smiles, this man had slid comfortably into his role. What was more, Sam seemed to never even bat an eye in replacing him. He'd just moved on as if Dean had never existed or had given his life to protect him.

Joshua shivered, and drew the blanket that was wrapped around him closer, a motion that was not lost on Dean. Dean knew he had no choice but to find a place to stay for the night, but still could not seem to get himself to drive away, fearing that he would lose Sam if he did.

"Drink some of your hot chocolate, it'll help warm you up."

"Don't want none," Joshua replied with stubborn shake of his head. "Wanna go back to Jonathan."

"Come on, Jay, give me a little break here, I'm doin' the best I can." Dean heaved a frustrated sigh, thinking of Jonathan, Joshua's former Guardian, and how the man had said Dean wasn't the right person to protect the little boy. He couldn't help but think Jonathan would be gloating if he heard Joshua say he wanted to leave Dean to go back to him."Just drink it, an' I promise tomorrow we'll stay at a motel an' do whatever you want all day."

"No, Chipmunk, wanna go now. Been waitin' ferever an' all you wanna do is hide-n-seek."

"Look, Jay," Dean said, his voice rising slightly in anger at the reminder of how much better Jonathan was compared to him, "Jonathan's gone an' he ain't coming back so deal with it. Now drink your hot cocoa then I want you to get to sleep."

Kicking off his covers, Joshua defiantly crossed his arms, his lower lip curling over his upper in a pout reminiscent of a younger Sam when he didn't get his way. "Not going to sleep. Don't like you anymore, yer a liar."

Dean reached over, grabbed the blanket and set it around Joshua again, only to have the little boy kick it off once more. Undeterred, Dean tried again, only to have the same results. "Leave it on, Jay, you're already catching a cold, an' I don't want you to get anymore sick."

"No," Joshua stubbornly refused.

"Said to keep it on, an' you're gonna listen to me." Dean snatched the blanket back off the floor of the car, and firmly wrapped it around Joshua, only to have him wrestle his way out of it, and push it back on the ground. "Fine," Dean threw up his hands in frustration, "you wanna freeze, go right ahead."

"Hate you, Chipmunk, yer a big fat ugly Chipmunk."

"Don't like you much either."

Tears flood Joshua's eyes, and he hastily turned to look out the side window as he brushed them away. Dean scrubbed his hand across his stubbled jaw, then rubbed his tired eyes with his thumb and index finger as he tried to figure out how he was supposed to reach the little boy who now seemed bound and determined not to like him.

"Didn't mean that, Jay," Dean tried, mentally berating himself for arguing with the six-year-old, but it had hurt more than he'd care to admit that the little boy said he hated him. "I'm just — " a sudden rap on the driver's side window, startled Dean, and he swung to glare at the dark-haired vampire standing there smirking at him.

Cranking down his window, Dean nearly growled, "What the hell are you doin' here, Rowan? Said if I needed your help, I'd find you."

Rowan grinned as he glanced over to the room Sam was staying in, and then back at Dean. "Thought stalking was a crime?" His cocky smile deepened as Dean scowled. "An' hanging out practically right outside his door, you must really want him to catch you. Thought you were smarter than that."

"Don't plan on gettin' caught."

Once again, Rowan looked over to where Sam had rented a room for the night, and chuckled. "You think he's that stupid, Dean? Think he won't eventually spot you, an' then it's just a matter of time before Hell calls their lost boy back to them."

"Said he won't find out, now get the hell outta here."

"Well, maybe he just needs a little help. I mean if my brother was alive pretending to be dead, I would want to know." Tossing back his head, Rowan chuckled even louder.

Before Dean could think to react, Rowan turned on his heel and headed for Sam's room. "Stay here," he hastily ordered to Joshua as he threw open the door, leapt out of the car, and raced toward the vampire.

Catching Rowan in the mid-section, Dean tackled him to the ground. Rowan let out a low growl, but in the quiet of the night it seemed more like a scream, and Dean was forced to look toward his brother's room to see if the noise had woken him. A sigh of relief escaped him when he didn't see any movement coming from there.

"Get off me," Rowan hissed, "get off me now or I will holler so loud your brother will definitely hear me."

"You're gonna stay away from Sam, you hear me?"

"Stay away or what, Dean? You're gonna kill me?" Rowan laugh mercilessly. "Thought we'd already been through that. Can't kill me. I'll just keep coming back till Sam does eventually figure out your alive, so why don't you just agree to my deal?"

Dean knew what he said was the truth. Rowan had proven that much when Dean had killed him a few weeks ago only to have the vampire show up the next day as if Dean had never cut off his head. "Not givin' you my amulet, so you might as well stop askin'."

"A man divided can protect no one, Dean. You think Michael won't figure out what you are doing, and have a plan set in motion to stop you?"

"Doin' my job," Dean gruffly replied as he stood and let the vampire up. "Joshua hasn't left my sights since I got him back from you."

"Can see you're doing a bang up job of it, having the little boy sleep in the car in the freezing cold while you spy on your brother. Really rather pathetic if you ask me." Rowan smirked as he headed back to Dean's Chevelle. "But I'm sure that's exactly what Michael meant by being Joshua's Guardian."

Rowan slid into the front seat of the car, and with the back of his hand, checked Joshua's forehead, and gave a slight nod. "Thought so," he mumbled more to himself than to Dean. "You not feelin' well, Josh?" he asked in a low comforting voice to gain the boy's trust.

"Stomach hurts a little," Joshua answered in a hushed voice and then looked to Dean before lowering his gaze.

"You give him anything for his fever, Dean?"

"Just found out he had one a couple of minutes ago," Dean grumbled, not liking it at all that a vampire was giving him advice on taking care of Joshua when Dean had practically raised Sam. "Planned on stopping at the store to get some medicine for him."

"When, Dean? After you spent the whole night here," Rowan quirked a brow, the smirk never leaving his face, "watching Sam?"

"No," Dean adamantly denied, but deep down he wasn't so sure that wasn't exactly what he'd planned on doing. "Was just gettin' ready to leave when you showed up."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that, maybe you'll even begin to believe it." Rowan eyed Dean for a moment, and then glanced back at Joshua. "Whatever eases your conscience."

"I'm doin' the best I can," Dean argued as he grabbed hold of Rowan's black leather trench coat, and yanked him out of the car. "Don't need some damn vampire telling me how to raise a kid."

"Yeah, I can see that. It really is a wonder why someone hasn't tracked you down to give you the father of the year trophy yet."

"Not his father."

"Might as well be, Dean. You're all he's got, no matter how poorly you're doing at the job."

"Like you could do so much better," Dean angrily retorted, more mad at himself that Rowan was right than at the vampire.

"Huh, think I already proved I could," Rowan chuckled, "when he was me, I made sure he had three meals a day, and a real bed to sleep in at night, but what's that compared to sleeping out in the cold while drinking hot chocolate."

"You had him sleeping in a brothel."

"At least he was warm. An' I can assure you, he never had any idea what was going on there." Rowan heaved a deep sigh, apparently tired of arguing with Dean over the matter of Joshua's well-being. "Look, take Josh, find a place to stay for the night, and I'll watch over Sam. No strings attached." He cast a winsome smile in Dean's direction, bright green eyes shimmering in the darkness. "Sort of a good faith gesture on my part."

"Not leavin' my brother here alone with you," Dean crossed his arms, legs slightly apart, and glared at Rowan, "not about to trust a freakin' blood-sucking vampire with Sam's life."

Rowan was quiet for a long time as he stared at Dean, and then finally gave a curt nod. "Alright, Dean, if that's the way you want it. But next time I might not be so generous when you come looking to me for help," here he hesitated to let the words he'd just spoken sink in fully, before adding, "and I have a feeling that time will come sooner than you think." He glanced at Joshua, and gave a subtle smile. "Take care of yourself, little guy, cause lord knows Dean's not worrying about you."

Without another word, Rowan turned and headed away, disappearing into the shadows after a few moments. Dean couldn't help wonder if maybe Rowan knew more than he was saying, but quickly shrugged off that notion. If he had, he would have rubbed it in Dean's face in an attempt to get the amulet from him. Not giving it any more thought, Dean got back in the car, shut the door, and wrapped the blanket around Joshua again. When Joshua made no attempt to stop him, Dean relaxed and settled in to keep watch over Sam for the night.


	4. Chapter 4

_thanks for reading and for all the really great reviews!! bambers;)_

_Chapter Four_

The first rays of morning light woke Dean instantly. Confused at first, he glanced around and saw Joshua buried under the blanket, fast asleep, and then he quickly checked to make sure Sam wasn't awake. Although he was fairly certain his brother wasn't up yet, Dean knew he had to find a spot to hide from view before his brother left the motel.

From scoping out the area the night before, Dean knew there was a restaurant on the corner where he could take Joshua to get some breakfast, and still be able to see the Impala from the window seats. Gently he tried to nudge Joshua awake, but the little boy barely even moved.

"Jay, come on, wake up so we can go get some breakfast," he tried again, calling in a low voice so as not to startle him.

Joshua rolled over in the seat, rubbed his red-rimmed eyes, and looked up at Dean. "Tummy hurts."

"You're probably just hungry, Jay, you didn't eat much yesterday," Dean said coaxingly. "Let's go get somethin' to eat and you'll feel better."

"No, don't feel good, Chipmunk," Joshua said as tears sprung to his eyes. "Wanna go back to sleep."

Dean checked Joshua's forehead again, and grimaced at how warm he felt. Seeing the little boy shiver, Dean hastily wrapped the blanket more firmly about him. "Okay, Jay, here's what we're gonna do, we're gonna find a store that's open and get you somethin for that fever, an' then you'll feel all better."

Joshua gave a slight nod, and snuggled down into the blanket, but Dean could still see him trembling. Reaching over, Dean buckled the safety belt around Joshua, and then started the car. With one last glance at Sam's motel room, he pulled out of the parking spot, and drove out of the motel parking lot.

He had to drive all over, but finally found a convenient store that was open. In a matter of moments he pulled in, and was out of the car. Dean hurried around to the passenger's side, opened the door, unbuckled the seatbelt, and picked Joshua up. Joshua leaned into him, resting his face against the side of Dean's neck, and Dean could feel the heat rolling off the little boy in waves.

Silently cursing himself for not taking Rowan's advice the night before, Dean hurried inside to find the medicine Joshua needed. "Where's your children's medicine," he asked the short stocky woman behind the counter, not wanting to take the time to look for it.

"Far back corner of the store, top shelf," she replied as she looked at him over the tops of her glasses. "Although, I think we might be out of it at the moment. With all the cold rainy weather a lot of kids are getting sick lately."

Without bothering to respond, Dean rushed back to where she'd said, only to find the shelf empty. Quickly he checked the adult pain relievers to see if he could find one that Joshua might be able to take, but after a few moments decided not to risk it. "Gonna have to find a different store, Jay."

Joshua looked up at him with pleading eyes, his lower lip trembling. "Tummy hurts, Chipmunk, gonna throw up."

"Just try and hold on, Jay." Dean spun around, searching for any signs of a bathroom. Not spotting one, he rushed back toward the front of the store, stopping in front of the cashier. "Where's the bathroom in this place."

"Don't have a public restroom, Sir."

Joshua let out a low pain-filled groan, and quickly covered his mouth. It was all Dean needed to see and hear to have him practically running out of the store. He'd barely rounded the corner of the building, when Joshua began puking all over the place. Setting him down, Dean gently rubbed Joshua's back as he continued to wretch.

"It's gonna be okay, Jay," he softly uttered as the boy took turns between puking and crying. "I'm gonna take care of you."

When Joshua had finished, he fell weakly into Dean's arms. Dean gathered him up and carried him back to the Chevelle. Once inside the vehicle, he turned to look at the little boy, and noticed how pale he was, and once again he felt a stab of guilt at his conscience. "Just gonna find you some medicine and then I swear we're going to find a motel so you can get some rest."

"Okay," Joshua weakly mumbled as he hugged onto his stomach.

Dean drove all around town until he found another store and luckily they had children's fever relievers in stock. Not willing to risk being without it again, Dean bought the last five boxes on the shelf along with a thermometer. The second they were back in the car, Dean tore the lid off the box and opened the bottle. Giving Joshua several of the small grape flavored pills, Dean watched as the boy swallowed them down, once again cursing himself for being so single-minded that he couldn't see what he was doing to Joshua.

"Sorry, Jay, this is all my fault, should've taken better care of you."

Within twenty minutes of finding medicine for Joshua, Dean had rented them a room at a motel not far from the one that Sam had been staying at. He carried Joshua inside, and set him on the bed furthest from the door and quickly took his temperature, groaning inwardly when he read 102.6 on the tiny digital screen.

"Cold," Joshua uttered, his teeth chattering. "An' my tummy hurts again."

No sooner had he'd said that, and he was rushing toward the bathroom to throw up again. Dean followed, knelt down next to the little boy, and once more began rubbing his back, all-the-while mentally kicking himself for making the sick boy sleep outside in the cold.

"You're gonna be okay," Dean softly murmured as Joshua turned, wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, and cried in earnest. "Took care of Sammy lots of times when he was sick, an' I'll take care of you too."

"No," Joshua sniffled, "y-you don't like me."

"Sure I do," Dean grabbed two hand towels off the rack, and picking Joshua up, he went to the sink. Wetting both towels, he washed off the boy's face with one of them, and threw it down on the counter before carrying him back to the bed. Joshua climbed under the covers, and Dean folded the other towel and placed it on his forehead. "Gonna go get our stuff out of the car, okay?" When he saw Joshua nod, he continued, "An' when I get back, you can put on your pajamas, an' then we can watch whatever you want on tv."

"Kay, Chipmunk, wanna watch Spongebob," Joshua said, then with a deep yawn, he curled up on his side and closed his eyes.

Dean stood there for a few moments, his own stomach churning as he thought of how poorly he had taken care of Joshua so far. As he watched Joshua tremble from beneath the blankets, he wondered if Michael and Jonathan hadn't been right when they said he wasn't the right person for the job.

He also was forced to admit that Rowan was at least partially correct when he said a man divided could protect no one. Although Dean knew he wasn't divided, his thoughts as always were solely on Sam, protecting his brother at all costs, even if that meant Joshua was the one to suffer for it.

With one last glance in Joshua's direction, Dean headed outside to get the duffels. He strode over to the car, opened the truck, and grabbed their stuff, along with the bag of weapons Michael had left in the trunk for his use. About to close the trunk, he spotted the Impala heading toward him, and quickly lowered his head, fearing Sam might have seen him.

The car slowed as it passed by, and Dean's heart skipped a beat, instinctively knowing his brother was looking in his direction, and a small part of him wanted Sam to find him. He was already tired of hiding, pretending he was dead, and still had a long ways to go, and he just wasn't sure if he could last five more months.

But for whatever part of him wanted it over with now, there was a larger more determined part that realized that if Sam found him at this moment, it would be just to say goodbye for good, and he knew he couldn't do that to his brother again. And so he waited, and as the moments ticked by and the Impala didn't turn around and head back toward him, Dean heaved a sigh of relief.

Turning on his heel, he strode to the motel room. With one last look over his shoulder, he went inside and closed the door behind him. He set down the bags, opened Joshua's, pulled out his pajamas, and then walked over to the bed to check on him.

The little boy had fallen into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning, and the covers he'd been under were now in a crumpled heap on the floor. Dean checked his forehead again, and his heart sank a little more when he realized the fever hadn't come down, and if anything, Joshua felt even warmer.

"Jay," he gently nudged the sleeping child as he sat beside him. "Come on, wake up."

"No, don't wanna go yet," Joshua mumbled, blinking rapidly, his eyes glassy with fever. "Chipmunk's sorry . . . said so, he is. Don't make me go."

"Jay, wake up, no one's gonna take you away from me," Dean said in a more authoritative voice, trying to reassure the frightened child.

"Don't let 'um take me, Chipmunk." Joshua bolted upright in bed, wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, his grip tightening as he continued to tremble. "They're comin' to get me."

"No one's gonna get you, not while I'm around. That much I can promise you, Jay." Dean briefly glanced in the direction of the door, wondering if like Sammy, Joshua had special gifts. And if he did, Dean worried that maybe there was really something coming after them. "Why don't you get your pajamas on, then we'll watch Spongebob, okay?" he asked, not wanting to worry Joshua with his thoughts.

"'Kay," came Joshua's weak sounding reply, and taking the clothes Dean handed him, he headed to the bathroom to change.

The moment he was gone, Dean went over to the bag of weapons, and grabbed out the salt and a knife that looked very similar to his own. Placing the knife under Joshua's pillow, he hurried to the window, glanced outside to make sure nothing was around, and then trailed the salt along the windowsill. Next he went over to the door and did the same. He'd barely had a chance to finish when he heard Joshua calling to him from the bathroom, and a moment later he heard the little boy throwing up again. Dean threw the salt down on the table, and rushed to the bathroom. Inside, he found Joshua curled up on the ground, hugging his stomach, his eyelids squeezed shut.

"Tummy hurts," Joshua cried as Dean scooped him up off the floor and cradled him to his chest.

"I know it does, Jay, but you'll feel better by tomorrow." Dean carried Joshua back to his bed. Grabbing the blanket off the floor, he sat and leaned back against the backboard. Joshua snuggled closer to Dean, shivering as Dean placed the blanket around them both. "You get some sleep, Jay," Dean smiled at him as he wrapped his arms protectively around the little boy, "nothing's gonna try and take you from me, I won't let it."


	5. Chapter 5

_thanks for reading and for all the really great reviews!! bambers;)_

Sam tugged back the curtain and peered out the window at the black Chevelle pulling out of the parking lot of the motel he and Jax were staying at, sure that he'd seen it before. For a moment as he caught a brief side view glimpse of the driver he was sure it was Dean. As he glanced down at his bandaged wrist, a frown creased his brow. Jax was right, Sam was seeing his brother everywhere, and knew deep down that if his brother were alive, nothing would stop him from coming back to Sam.

He watched the car speed away, and noticed a little boy in the front seat beside the driver. His thoughts went back to the night he'd went to the crossroads only to find his brother already gone. The crossroads demon had offered to release Dean if Sam found and brought a child to her, and momentarily he wondered how hard it would be to actually find the kid. Not that he would trade another person's life for Dean's, especially a child's, but he had to admit if only to himself, that the option was never far from his mind.

"Sam?" the sound of Jax's voice broke in on Sam's musings, "Somethin' wrong?" When Sam turned to look at him, Jax nudged his head toward the window. "You looked kinda . . . I dunno, kinda lost there for a moment."

"Was just thinkin'," Sam said as he let go of the curtain and moved away from the window.

"About what?" Jax asked, and Sam saw the clear look of concern etched in the younger man's eyes before Jax quickly lowered his head.

"Dean . . . demons, some little kid they want," the last words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"What the hell do ya mean, some little kid they want?"

"It's nothing, forget I mentioned it." Sam trudged over to the couch and slumped down onto it. Brusquely raking his fingers through his hair, he heaved a deep sorrowful sigh. "It's not important."

Jax was quiet for a moment as he rubbed his jaw, eyes narrowing as he contemplated what Sam had said. "This kid, they want you to find him for them, don't they?"

"Said it wasn't important, Jax, just let it go."

"Like hell I will, those sonuvabitches offered you some sort of deal to save Dean, didn't they?" When Sam failed to respond, Jax nodded in understanding, a deep scowl settling on his features. "An' yer thinkin' about doin' it. Are ya really that freakin' pathetic, Sam?"

"Don't freakin' look at me like that, Jax," Sam was on his feet in a shot, glaring at Jax, "not like you wouldn't give it some thought if it was your brother's life hanging in the balance."

"Not with someone else's life, I wouldn't." Jax stalked to him, and jabbing his index finger into Sam's chest, he shouted, "It's one freakin' thing if ya want ta screw up yer own damn life dealin' with those sonuvabitches, but I'll be damned if I let ya risk someone else's."

"Never said I was gonna do it," Sam argued back, pushing Jax away from him, wincing as pain shot up his arm radiating from his wrist.

"But ya were thinkin' about it, an' thinkin' about it is just one step away from actually doin' it." He gestured to Sam's bandaged wrist, and added, "If ya need any proof of that just look at yer wrist, sure ya thought about that too."

"Don't need you to be my freakin' conscience, Jax," Sam shouted even louder, his voice trembling with scarcely controlled rage, "got along just fine before you ever came around, so why don't you just shut the hell up, an' leave me the freak alone. Better yet, why don't ya just leave."

"Not goin' anywhere," Jax hollered back, "an' someone needs ta be yer goddamn conscience, seein' as yer freakin head is so damn screwed up right now yer slicin' yer wrist open one minute an' thinkin' of makin' deals with demons the next."

So furious with Jax, Sam slammed his fist into the man's face, knocking Jax backwards into the table. A pain-filled groan erupted from Sam's mouth as he drew back his injured hand and clutched it protectively to his chest.

Righting himself, Jax glared at Sam as he rubbed his jaw, moving his chin back and forth, and wincing with the effort. "Did that make ya feel better, Sam?" He opened his arms out wide to the sides. "Take another shot, go ahead won't be the first time someone beat the shit outta me ta make themselves feel better."

"Just get the hell outta here," Sam nudged his head toward the door, "never wanted you around in the first place."

"Ya know what, if that's what ya really want, fine . . . I'm done," Jax grabbed his duffel and haphazardly tossed his clothes into it. Throwing on his boots, he hooked the strap of the duffel over his shoulder, and stalked to the door. Once there he turned to stare at Sam, defeat registering in the younger man's glistening eyes. "Next time ya try ta kill yerself use a gun. It's quicker an' it's pretty much guaranteed ta work. Just put it ta yer freakin' head an' pull the trigger." He swallowed hard, a single tear slipping silently down his cheek before he managed to choke out, "Wonder if anyone will even realize or care that yer gone." With head hung low, he headed out the door, calling back over his shoulder, "An' this time do us both a favor an' don't come lookin' for me." The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Sam totally alone for the first time since Dean had died.

Sam trudged over to the couch, and sank down wearily onto it. He glanced around the room, his gaze lingering overly long on the opened bag of weapons on the floor near his bed. He'd never realized before how deafening the sound of total silence could be as he eyed the .45 sticking out of the top of his duffel. With a great deal of sadness, Sam contemplated how right Jax was when he'd said that no one would miss or even care if he'd died. His parents were gone, Jess was gone, and now Dean. There really was no one left who might miss him if he was gone.

Slowly, he stood and trudged over to the duffel, yanked out his gun, and then slumped down onto his bed. Gingerly palming the cold steel in his hands, he wondered briefly if Jax's mother ever had any lingering doubts before she'd pulled the trigger. Had she even considered what her death would do to her sons? Had she even realized that her death would forever ruin Jax's life, would break him beyond repair? No, he sadly decided, she was just like Dean. She, like Dean, had been selfish, only thinking about what she needed, and not giving a thought to what her sons would go through after her death.

But, Jax was right. Sam didn't have to worry about that. All his bridges were severed. Anything that would tie him to this world or make him want to care to fight the good fight were gone. His hand trembled as he jammed the gun under his chin, finger on the trigger. Squeezing his eyes shut tight, his finger tensed slightly, oblivious to anything around him but the overwhelming pain he wanted to end.

"Don't do it, Sam," came Jax's quiet voice from the doorway. "Don't leave me to clean up after another person I care about dies."

"Walk away, Jax," Sam muttered, his eyes still closed against the sight of the younger man. "Just want to be alone."

"Can't do that," Jax strode over to where Sam was sitting, took the gun out of Sam's hand, ejected the bullet cartridge and stuffed it into his pocket. "See, as I was walkin' away, I was thinkin' about what I'd said, an' I was wrong. If ya died, I would miss ya. An' I know it probably doesn't count for much, but I'd really rather ya stick around." He hesitated for a moment, drawing in a shaky breath. "Fight the good fight with me, Sam, cause I can't do it alone. Don't make me do it alone."

"Don't know if I can do that."

"Yeah, ya can, Sam." Jax took a seat beside him, and ruffling his fingers through his shaggy hair, he turned to look at Sam. "I know it's hard, an' it sucks like hell, but that's what life is. It's one big freakin' suckfest, everything an' everyone suckin' the life right outta ya. An' if yer real lucky you'll die before all the people ya care about do . . . we're just not the lucky ones, Sam."

"Huh . . . thanks for that, feelin' much better now," Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. "If I'm ever out on a ledge make sure you call someone else to try an' talk me down from it cause you suck at it."

"Never said I was the Martha Stewart of pep talks, Sam, wrappin' it all up in a pretty little bow for ya." He mimicked wrapping up a bow with his hands. "Just tellin' ya like it is. Think it's better than sayin' tomorrow yer gonna wake up an' it's all gonna be sunshine and lollipops."

"True." Sam gave a curt nod, stood and started to gather his stuff together. "So, you ready to learn first hand what a salt and burn is?" he asked, wanting desperately to change the subject, hating the idea that Jax found him to be pathetic instead of a hunter raised to protect and defend innocent people. "Cause you get to dig up the grave."

"Why do I get stuck diggin' up some lady's grave?"

"Cause I'm older." A faint smile graced Sam's face thinking how Dean always said the same thing to him.

"Well, that's a stupid reason, not like yer walkin' around with a freakin' cane."

"Okay, think of it like this," Sam smirked, "life is just one big freakin' suckfest filled with crappy-assed jobs, an' tonight yours just happens to be worse than most. But if you're real lucky, you won't find yourself being hurtle through the air by some vengeful spirit . . . an' hate to tell you this, but we're never that lucky."

"Damn, Sam, that hurts," Jax feigned a look of shocked disbelief, his brows creasing into a frown, but he couldn't quite manage it as a devilish grin slipped onto his features. "Here I give ya my best patented Jax Callio, pick ya up of yer ass an' get ya movin' again speech, and here ya go messin' with it."

"Whatever, dude, help me get this stuff together so we can get out of here."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Within an hour Sam and Jax were on the road heading for the library to do a little more research on the death of Amy Fillmore. From their research they'd already learned that she'd worked at the James A. Michner public library until she'd been murdered there a little more than three years ago. They'd further discovered that it wasn't until about a month ago that Amy started to really let her presence be known, injuring several people and killing one.

"Why all of the sudden, Sam?" Jax looked up from what he was reading on Sam's laptop and cast a sidelong glance in Sam's direction.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if she was murdered, why'd it take her so long ta get pissed off? Think if someone murdered me, I'd be up the next day kickin' ass . . . an' this so doesn't sound strange in the least ta ya does it?" Jax chuckled. "Guess while I was spendin' all my spare time in jail I never actually thought one day I'd be sittin' around discussing how to kill a dead person with anyone."

"Sometimes people get more deranged and twisted as time goes by, their trapped here an' get angrier and angrier until they turn that rage on innocent people."

"Huh, could say the same thing about bein' in jail." Jax grinned, but then his smile faltered and he hastily turned to look out the side window. "I mean, spendin' every spare moment in yer cell with some big dude named Bubba who uses you as his own personal punching bag cause he just needs ta stay in shape ta really kick ass out in the yard . . . guess that really could make a person twisted after a long enough while. "

"Probably is just like being in a prison I guess." Sam cast a furtive glance in Jax's direction, noting the slight tremor in the younger man's hands, and then trained his sights back on the road. He wondered if Jax was speaking from experience rather than just throwing out a hypothetical situation. From his own short time in Folsom Prison, Sam realized how tough and terrifying it could be to be locked away with murderers, rapists and other violent criminals. But he had Dean with him while Jax had no one, and he could only begin to imagine how hard it would be to go it alone in jail. "Is that what it was really like?"

Jax was silent for a few moments, his gaze never shifting from looking out the window. "Don't ask, Sam," he muttered, in a low faint voice, "ya don't want ta know . . . believe me, ya really don't want ta know."

Sam's heart clenched painfully hearing the sorrow and desolation in Jax's tone. "Jax — "

"Said let it go, Sam," Jax swung to glare at him, blue-green eyes glistening, "there's just certain things we ain't ever gonna discuss, so please just let it go." he turned back to look out the window, his body tensing, fists clenching tightly.

Sudden realization of all Jax had endured in his life, both what he'd shared and what he'd kept hidden, struck Sam momentarily speechless. He was pretty sure he could guess what Jax wasn't telling him, and was amazed at how strong Jax was that he hadn't let it kill him.

Scrubbing his hand across his face, he weakly mumbled, "Sorry, Jax," and then felt stupid as if saying sorry could make up for all the younger man had suffered.

"Not yer problem, Sam." Without turning to look at Sam, he muttered, "In case yer wonderin' . . . in case ya might think . . . " his voice trailed off as he raked trembling fingers through his hair, and drawing in a shaky breath, he continued, "I'm not. . . ."

"Never thought you were," Sam replied simply, and noticed Jax visibly relax a little in his rigid posture. "Actually think you're probably the second most bravest person I know."

"Not brave, Sam," Jax shook his head, "it's just that after you've been dragged down so many times by people, ya just sorta disappear as a person, ya know? An' then ya either take a gun ta yer head or ya hide behind a wall of sarcasm an' pitiful jokes, just prayin' that no one will see how badly screwed up an' broken ya truly are."

"Yeah," Sam said, thinking of Dean, and how he'd built a fortress of walls to keep from being hurt by people, even those closest to him. "Think I know exactly — " Sam stopped abruptly seeing the same black Chevelle he'd seen drive away from their motel. From a distance, the man standing behind the car looked exactly like Dean. The wariness in his posture, the way he shuffle through the trunk of the car, how he brushed his hand through his hair, it was all Dean.

Sam took his foot off the gas pedal, and pressed on the brake, slowing down considerably as he held his breath, waiting for the man to glance up at him. _Come on, Dean, just look up at me, I know it's you . . . it has to be you._

"It's not him, Sam," Jax glanced from the Chevelle and the man standing behind it to Sam, and shook his head. "Ya have ta stop doin' this ta yerself, dude. If yer brother were alive don't ya think he would be lookin' for ya?"

"What if he can't, Jax?" He saw the man lower his head, disappearing from view behind the trunk lid. "What if he somehow managed to escape the hell hounds, an' is on the run, hidin' out from them."

"Look at the guy, he's not exactly hidin'." Jax gestured to the Chevelle, "An' hell look at the car for that matter. It's definitely not what I'd call inconspicuous. Think yer just prayin' for somethin' that just isn't possible."

"Need to know for sure," Sam tapped down a little harder on the brake. With sweaty palms gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, he shifted in his seat to get a better look out of Jax's window, but couldn't see the man anymore. "It just has to be him," he said in a breathless whisper.

"An' when it's not, Sam? Then what?" Jax moved in his seat to cover the view outside the window, eclipsing it from Sam's vision. "Seriously, ya have ta stop this, it's killin' ya, an' yer never gonna get past this if ya can't let go. Dean died ta save ya, an' I'm pretty sure it's not the kinda deal ya can just run away from."

"Just want him back, just want things like they used to be before."

"Yeah, I know, but sometimes things can just never go back ta how they used to be. An' I think ya know that Dean would want the same thing if he was alive. An' that's how ya know in yer heart that it can't be him."

Deep down, Sam knew Jax was right, and whatever was left of his heart crumpled and died away, leaving him feeling empty and hollow inside. He swallowed down the painful lump in his throat and sadly muttered, "So, should we go to the library first or stop an' get breakfast," as he hit the gas pedal and picked up speed again.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks for reading...hoping everyone is still enjoying...bambers;)_

Dean awoke with a jolt, wondering why his clothes were so damp. His right arm was numb from Joshua who was still cradled in his arms. As he shifted Joshua to his left side, Dean felt the painful prickles of the blood rushing back to his fingertips.

He took a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table, and was surprised to see that they'd practically slept the whole day away. It was something he'd never done before, especially while he was trying to protect someone, and he berated himself for his own weakness.

Flipping on the lamp, he checked on Joshua, and scowled when he noticed how pink the boy's cheeks were. Joshua's teeth were chattering as he trembled, but he didn't wake up, not even when Dean gave him a light nudge. Although it wasn't necessary as he could tell the fever hadn't broken, Dean still checked the boy's forehead, hoping that at least he might feel a little cooler. Fear and panic gripped a hold of his heart when he realized Joshua was burning up with fever.

"Come on, Jay, gotta wake up for me," he gently coaxed, and the boy stirred slightly from his deep slumber. "Have to take your temperature again, an' give you some more medicine."

"Don't wanna, tired," Joshua said in a weak, raspy voice.

"I know you are, but you have to wake up." Dean sat up further, and snatched the thermometer off the table. "Just open your mouth, so I can take your temperature, then I promise you can go back to sleep.

Reluctantly, Joshua complied. Dean placed the thermometer under Joshua's tongue, and then waited. After a few minutes, he removed it, read 103.5, and knew he had to do something quick to get the fever down.

"'Kay, change of plans, kiddo, need to get you in the bathtub." Gathering Joshua in his arms, Dean hurried to the bathroom, and poured a tepid bath. Without bothering to remove the boy's clothing, Dean set him down in the tub full of water.

"Fr-freezin', Ch-ch-chipmunk," Joshua shivered as he spoke, his teeth chattering loudly.

"W-wanna go b-back to b-bed."

"Gotta get your fever down first," Dean said, and gently pressed his hand down on Joshua's shoulder when the boy tried to get out, stopping him instantly.

Snatching a towel off the rack, Dean wet it down and ran it along the back of Joshua' neck and then over his forehead and through the little boy's shaggy brown hair in an attempt to stave off the fever. Joshua wriggled around in the water, tears cascading down his rosy cheeks as he tried to push the towel away.

"When Sammy was only a little older than you are now," Dean began in a soft, soothing voice as he continued to work at breaking the fever, "he got real sick while my father was away on a hunting trip." Dean hesitated for a moment as dipped the towel in the water again, and then resumed his attempts to cool the boy's skin. "I couldn't get a hold of my Dad, and my little brother just kept getting worse and worse, an' I didn't know what to do for him." He swallowed hard as he recalled the same pleading look for help from Sam that he now saw mirrored in Joshua's eyes. "Was only around eleven at the time, an' I couldn't call anyone for help . . . didn't know what to do."

Averting his gaze from Joshua's so the boy wouldn't see how terrified he was at the thought of not being able to protect his brother, Dean drew in a deep breath to regain his composure. "So not knowing what else to do, I poured a tub full of water, an' we both sat in there clothes and all, just like you, until his fever came down."

Dean chuckled recalling how his father came home to find both of them still in the tub, clothes drenched, Sam asleep, his head resting on Dean's shoulder. After he'd explained about the fever to his father, Dean remembered the look of pride in his father's eyes that he'd been able to take care and protect his brother.

"Ch-chipmunk?" Joshua glanced up at his with wide eyes, and Dean could tell how frightened the boy was, and also knew what the little boy wanted to ask without him even having to say a word.

"Alright," Dean stated simply.

He stood, gathered Joshua in his arms and sat in the quickly cooling water with him. His own teeth began to chatter as he continued to run the wet cloth over Joshua's forehead, hair and neck, until he thought the boy felt a little cooler. Draining the tub, Dean helped Joshua out and then wrapped him in the only remaining towel.

"'Kay, let's get you some dry clothes then I'll order us somethin' to eat." Dean's own drenched clothing clung to him, his wet jeans adhering to him like a second skin, but he scarcely noticed, so worried about Joshua

"Not hungry, just wanna go ta bed," Joshua muttered tiredly, slumping down on the cold tile floor.

"Gotta eat somethin', Jay, you haven't eaten all day." Dean picked him up, carried him to the couch, and laid him down before setting about to get him dry clothing.

After helping Joshua into clean, dry pajamas, Dean took his temperature again and was more than little discourage to find that the thermometer read 102.5. Stalking over to the table, Dean snatched the children's medicine bottle off of it. Worried that Joshua would become dehydrated if the fever persisted, Dean headed to the bathroom and poured a cup of water. He strode back to Joshua, and made sure that he drank at least half the glass of liquid before he set the cup down on the table. Hastily opening the bottle, he shook a few into his hand and gave them to the boy, and watched as he struggled to swallow them down.

"Throat hurts," Joshua said, clutching at his neck.

Dean went and grabbed his flashlight, and then sat beside Joshua, running his fingers along the sides of the boy's neck to check his glands, and grimaced when he found they were swollen. "Jay, open your mouth, I wanna check your throat."

Joshua reluctantly complied, and Dean flashed the light inside and saw that his tonsils were red and swollen, but didn't see any white patches that he knew indicated strep throat. Although he knew from experience that didn't necessarily mean he didn't have strep, Dean still couldn't help but feel a little relieved. Strep meant doctors, and questions Dean didn't know how to answer. But deep down, he knew if Joshua didn't start feeling better soon, he would have to take him to the hospital regardless.

"Let's get you tucked back into bed, an' then I'll order us some dinner."

With a weak nod, Joshua stood and slowly made his way over to his bed and climbed in. Dean covered him with a blanket, and sat down beside him. Flipping through the phonebook, he found a place that delivered, and called and ordered himself a burger along with fries and some chicken soup for Joshua. After that, he grabbed himself some dry clothes and went into the bathroom to change.

Within a half hour the food arrived, but by that time Joshua had already fallen back asleep so Dean was forced to wake him up. Gently nudging Joshua on the shoulder, Dean tried to wake him, but Joshua turned over curled up in a tight ball and wrapped his arms around his knees, a soft cry escaping his lips.

"Come on, Jay, you gotta wake up an' eat somethin'." Dean sat, lifted the boy out of bed, and cradled Joshua to him, rocking slowly back and forth as Joshua cried. "Just eat a little something for me, don't wanna see you get any sicker," he murmured against Joshua's ear in a soft pleading voice.

"Don't feel good," Joshua sniffled, brushing the tears away from his cheeks. "Tummy hurts . . . don't wanna eat."

"Just a little — " Dean was cut short when Joshua started shaking uncontrollably in his arms, the boy's eyes rolling backward in his head as he jerked spasmodically. "No. No. No. No. No. Don't you do this to me, Jay. You stay with me, you hear."

On his feet in a shot, Dean grabbed the blanket, wrapped it around the little boy, snatched his keys off the table and rushed for the door, mindless of the fact that he didn't have shoes on. Sprinting to his car, Dean flung open the door, and set the boy down inside. Within a matter of seconds he was peeling out of the parking lot and heading for the hospital.

Joshua continued to convulse in his seat, twitching and jerking against the leather cushion, his eyes now closed tight, his fingers bent as he thrashed about wildly. Dean reached over and checked Joshua's forehead, and slammed his foot on the gas pedal when he felt the little boy's hot dry skin.

Pulling into the hospital's emergency area, Dean quickly found a spot and parked the car. He grabbed hold of Joshua, and was out of the car in a flash, running toward the brightly lit double doors. They slid open and he rushed inside, sprinting over to the admit desk.

"I need a doctor now," he ordered to the petite blond woman behind the desk, "my son's really sick," he lied effortlessly.

The nurse took one glance at Joshua and immediately showed Dean back to the emergency area. A tall dark-haired doctor rushed forward and took Joshua from Dean and carried him to a gurney.

"Want a set a vitals now," the doctor order to the nurses assisting him. "Hang an IV, we need to get some fluids into his system."

"Temps, 105.2, doctor," a short brunette nurse called out to him.

Dean listened helplessly as they rolled the gurney away. He attempted to follow, but the woman who had shown him into the emergency area stopped him.

"Sir, we have to get some information from you regarding your son."

"Have to go with him," Dean replied weakly as watched Joshua disappear from view. "He's my responsibility."

"The doctors are gonna take really good care of him, sir." The woman placed her hand on Dean's arm, and nudged her head in the direction of the admit desk. "This won't take long, I promise," she said in a soft comforting voice. "An' I'll make sure as soon as they know anything about your little boy's condition, they'll come and tell you right away."

Reluctantly Dean followed her back to the desk where she handed him a bunch of forms to fill out. As Dean glanced over the medical history portion of the paperwork, fear crept into his heart. He had no idea what to write. If it had been Sam, he could have filled out the history in his sleep, but with Joshua, he had no idea if the boy had ever been injured before or if he was allergic to any medications. What if he checked no to Joshua being allergic to penicillin, only to find out later that he was with disastrous results?

He cleared his throat to gain the woman's attention. "What if I don't know if he's allergic to anything?"

"We can check with your son's primary care physician."

Scrubbing his hand across his face, Dean looked around the waiting room, noting two police officers who were drinking coffee at the security desk while chatting with the security guard posted there. He leaned in closer, and in a low voice, muttered, "My ex-wife had Joshua until about a month ago, she just showed up one day and dropped him off at my doorstep. Don't know who his primary doctor is."

"Is there any way you can get a hold of her?"

"No."

"Alright, I'll let the doctor know," she said, with a slight frown. "I'll need your insurance card."

Dean reached in his wallet and yanked out one of his fake insurance cards and handed it to her. The nurse looked it over briefly, and then handed it back to him.

"Sorry, sir, but this card doesn't have your son's name on it. Is he perhaps covered under another policy?"

"No," Dean replied, nearing the end of his patience, "look, I already told you that Joshua's only been living with me for about a month, I haven't had time yet to add him to my insurance. But, I'll make sure to have him added to it as soon as I can."

"Sorry to have to tell you this, but without insurance, we're gonna have to make arrangements for you to make payment up front."

"An' if I can't pay up front?" Dean scowled at the woman, who looked as if she'd already decided he was a deadbeat father who wasn't worthy of her time.

"The doctors will stabilize your son and transport him over to County," she said matter-of-factly.

"Are the doctors in this hospital better than County?"

"Some of the best pediatric doctors in the country reside here, sir. But County is a good hospital too."

Clenching his fists, Dean crumpled the papers in his hand, hating the woman's condescending manner, and her simpering smile. "Joshua's staying here. Not gonna risk his life in some damn county hospital with freakin' mediocre doctors taking care of him."

"Sir, if you can't afford to pay, County is a good place for Joshua, they work with low income families who don't have insurance."

"Said he's staying here," Dean said, his voice raising in anger as he leaned further over the desk. A sideways glance told him that he'd now garnered the attention of the two police officers, and so lowering his voice a little, he added, "I can get the money, just need a little time."

"I'm sorry, sir, but if you can't afford to make payment up front, I have to inform the doctors to prepare him for transport as soon as he's stable."

"Listen, you freakin' uncaring bitch," Dean snarled through clenched teeth, furious with her and the damn hospital rules, "just have to make a call and you'll have your damn money."

The nurse blanched considerably at the insult, but Dean was beyond caring what her or anyone else in the hospital thought about him. The only thing he was concerned about at the moment was that Joshua received the best care possible, and if that meant making deals with demons, or vampires as the case may be, then he was more than willing to do so.

"Sir, there is no need to be rude," the nurse said indignantly as she eyed the two police officers.

"There's no reason to be a bitch either, but you're doin' a damn good job of it." Sensing more than actually seeing the two officers heading toward him, Dean gave the nurse a curt smile, and said, "I'll have your money in an hour," and then strode away.

As Dean took a seat in the far corner of the waiting room, he thought of the only person who would have the kind of money he needed, and also knew what he would have to do to get it. Yanking his cell phone out of his pocket, he jabbed at the buttons, and waited while the phone rang. Finally, after four rings someone answered.

"Hello?"

"Rowan?" Dean asked, hating that he had to deal with the vampire, but could see no other way to help Joshua.

"Yeah," Rowan replied sounding every bit as smug as usual. "Been waitin' for your call, Dean."


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks to everyone for reading and for the awesome reviews!! bambers;)_

_Chapter Seven_

Rowan slid out of the front seat of his sleek dark blue Audi A5 and carefully shut the door so as not to make a sound. With stealth born from years upon years of stalking his prey with deadly precision, he crept upon the man who stood beside the wrought iron fence in front of the graveyard. The man, seemingly unaware of Rowan's presence, casually ran his fingers through his hair as he peered into the darkness beyond the gates. For all intent purposes, he appeared to be alone, but Rowan heard more than just a solitary heartbeat coming from the shaggy-haired man's direction and knew instinctively that he wasn't there by himself.

Like sharpened daggers, Rowan's fangs pierced through his upper gums, pearly-white teeth shifting backwards to accommodate them, and Rowan let out a low hiss of pain. After a very long lifetime it still often surprised him that this was the only pain he'd ever truly felt. To him, it was as if heavy wooden spikes were being nailed into his flesh, and yet somehow he thought it fitting and welcomed the intense searing ache.

He heard the man's heartbeat quicken as the blood surged through his veins, but still the man remained outwardly calm. If the younger man sensed Rowan's presence, which Rowan was certain that he had, the man did not appear to be the least bit intimidated. This determined, Rowan gave up any pretense of trying to sneak up on the man. Long strides carried him the rest of the way there, and sidling up alongside the lean muscular man, Rowan casually draped his forearms between the sturdy iron bars of the fence.

The man's head dropped backward to rest on his shoulders, exposing the veins in his neck to Rowan's view in an almost taunting manner. His eyes shifted back and forth as he studied the heavens above, yet Rowan knew he was looking beyond what normal men could see to what lie hidden within the blanket of clouds and stars.

"Question, Rowan." the man said, turning his head to look at Rowan briefly before he once again retrained his sights on the sky above.

Rowan waited for the question but when the man failed to speak again, he cleared his throat and asked, "And what would that be, my Lord Lucifer?"

Lucifer was silent for several more seconds, his slow steady breathing and the blood coursing through his veins, drowning out all other sounds to Rowan's ears. "Your thoughts on trinities? Perhaps not the holy kind, well, not in the strictest sense of the word, but trinities nonetheless."

"Not sure I understand the question," Rowan said as he looked beyond the gated wall, and detected two more heart beats coming from inside the cemetery. One heart beat faster than the other, and from this he ascertained that one of the two men was doing some sort of physical labor.

"You don't? Huh, thought you were smarter than that." Lucifer glanced in his direction, blue-green eyes shifting briefly to fiery crimson and then back again. "Talking about body, mind and soul or the entities that could make up those three separate and distinct things."

Understanding dawned on Rowan as to why Lucifer was here and also who exactly the two men inside the graveyard were. "Think the mind can be tricked and it is usually the easiest prey of all three."

"True."

"The body although strong can be conquered."

"And the spirit?"

Rowan was quiet for a moment, not liking where the discussion was leading, but knew he had no choice but to answer. "I believe the spirit is the strongest of the three, but if crushed it will destroy the mind and body thoroughly. Does that answer your question?"

"Not quite." Lucifer peered back into the darkness of the cemetery, seeing beyond the grave markers lined in neat long rows, and the trees and shrubs to where Rowan knew Sam and Jax were. With a subtle nod of Lucifer's head, the wind kicked up, an eerie moan following it through the night. "Which would you say Dean was, if you had to chance a guess?"

"Guess I would have to say the body." Rowan hesitated, trying to decided why this all would be important to Lucifer. "Why do you want to know?"

"I have my reasons," Lucifer stated, not elaborating in any details. "And why would you say he would be the body in the trinity?"

Taking a calming breath, Rowan scrubbed his hand across his face as he thought of what he knew of Dean. "Cause he's strong, doesn't know how to quit even if all the odds are stacked against him."

"Then why wouldn't he be the spirit?"

"Think cause he's too easily swayed by his emotions. He cannot survive without Sam and that makes him weak . . . is that what you wanted to hear?"

"So Sam would be?" Lucifer asked without bothering to answer his question.

"Well, if we're talking about a trinity, I would say the mind. However, if we were just talking about Sam and Dean I would probably say he'd be the spirit though."

"Interesting." Lucifer looked back at Rowan. "And why would you change your mind because we're speaking of a trinity?"

"Because to you, Sam has always been easy prey. He leads with his heart, and to you that is a weakness. Without Dean there to watch over him, you believe he can be easily manipulated and I guess that would make him the mind."

"An' then there's Jax?" Lucifer said with a knowing smile, although the meaning was lost on Rowan.

"Not sure I would consider him the spirit."

"Why?"

"From what I can gather, Dean doesn't even know Jax an' from what I can tell, he probably won't like him if he did."

"See, that's where you're wrong. They do know each other."

Rowan raked his fingers through his hair, brushing back his bangs from his face as he thought of Jax. From all the information he had gathered about the younger man, Jax seemed unlikely to be anything other than a common petty criminal, but in the world of angels and demons that meant nothing. He also knew from experience the weakest of men could do extraordinary things if God willed it to be so.

"Jax is special?" Rowan asked, although he already knew the answer without Lucifer having to say a word.

"For nine months, Lauren Callio carried a child." Lucifer raised a single finger as if he needed to emphasize his point. "One child, not two. And yet she delivered two sons, the first being Jax and within ten minutes Nick followed. Jax was never meant to be born, and it always puzzled me as to why he was. That is until now."

"Don't necessarily think that makes him special," Rowan quickly responded with a frown, not liking the idea that he hadn't known about this until now. He'd always been able to determine the existence of a special child before no matter how well concealed from mankind by angels or demons. "Think maybe the doctors might just have missed detecting his heartbeat."

Lucifer quirked a brow and chuckled. "Don't look so put out, Rowan, not even I was able to put all the pieces together until tonight." He paused for a moment to draw in a breath of the chilled night's air, and then continued, "But even back then, I knew Jax had to die. Tried to kill him in so many damn ways." He laughed mercilessly, the sound of it carrying on the breeze, growing louder by the second to fill the graveyard, and Rowan was certain that Sam and Jax had to have heard it. "Put him through a living hell, an' yet, he still managed to somehow survive . . but that's all about to change."

"How?" was all Rowan could think to say, knowing now that if Jax did die, all he'd strived so hard to accomplish would be for nothing.

"Crush the spirit, kill the trinity." Lucifer licked his lips as if in anticipation of his final victory, a sardonic and self-satisfied grin settling on his features. "Jax and Joshua, two hearts beating as one in every sense of the word. Kill Jax, Joshua dies and when that happens the trinity will be irrevocably shattered."

"An' the amulet?" Rowan asked, feeling as if his last hope was burning up right before his eyes.

"Still looking for miracles, I see," Lucifer chuckled, "thought you would have learned by now that you're damned to walk this earth until the day of reckoning is at hand." his smile deepened, yet there was no warmth in it, "then you fall to my domain. An' I gotta tell ya, the fires of Hell have been waiting a long time for you, my traitorous friend."

Rowan steeled himself against the tremor of fear racing through his body. Eyes narrowing considerably, he glared at Lucifer. "Asked about the amulet."

"One by one they will shatter, killing the Guardians who possess them. And with each broken amulet, the world will fall a little more into darkness, until all but the twelfth is destroy. That one is mine, the last bit of hope and humanity to be worn around my neck forever out of reach of mankind."

"And Dean and Sam?"

"Sam will take his rightful place at my side to serve me." Lucifer stepped away from the fence and headed toward the front gates. With one look at the wrought iron bars denying him entrance into the cemetery, they burst wide open as a torrent of white-hot flames shot heavenward, twisting and crumpling the metal as the fire enshrouded them.

"And Dean," Rowan shouted out to Lucifer, not wanting to follow him through the blazing inferno and into the graveyard.

Lucifer swung back to look at him, a lopsided grin settling on his boyish features. "Fallen from grace, he will become my darkest angel . . . killing for my pleasure alone." He stared long and hard at Rowan, then threw back his head and laughed. "An' the first person I plan on sending him after is you. So if I were you, I'd think real hard before trying to outsmart me cause I know exactly what you're planning to do if given the chance."

"I live only to serve you, my Lord Lucifer," Rowan lied, but knew all-the-while that Lucifer didn't believe a word he was saying.

"Not for long, Rowan, remember that. Soon enough, you will be dying only for me." Lucifer strode through the flames, heading in the direction of Sam and Jax, calling back over his shoulder, "But first I have to take care of one minor little detail."

Rowan stood there for the longest time, unmoving, not sure what he should do next. He knew to go after Lucifer would accomplish nothing. He also determined that if Lucifer wanted to kill Jax outright there would be nothing he could do to prevent it from happening. Yet, he really didn't believe Lucifer would murder Jax right away either. There was something about Jax that intrigued Lucifer that much Rowan could tell. And if Jax intrigued him, that meant he didn't understand the full nature of the trinity created by Sam, Dean and Jax, and for now that would work to Jax's benefit.

Dean, on the other hand, was a different matter entirely. Lucifer knew exactly how to get to him, knew how willingly the hunter would give up his soul to protect Sam, had seen proof of it. It was Dean who needed watching over, and Rowan just wasn't certain Michael would give it the full attention it deserved. With that thought in mind, he headed back to his car, determined to find the wayward hunter.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks to everyone for reading and for the awesome reviews!! bambers_;)

_Chapter Eight_

Jax pushed the drenched clumps of hair back out of his eyes as he heaved another shovel full of mud out of the grave. His sore muscles screamed with the effort of lifting the rain soaked mud out of the ground, but he wasn't about to let Sam know that. Especially not after hearing Bobby complain to Sam how poorly he'd done in learning how to use a crossbow or how he couldn't shoot a blind demon standing two feet in front of him with its hands tied behind its back.

In his defense, Jax could've argued that after his father had died, he'd vowed he would never shoot a gun. Sure, he'd hated his father, had wished him dead on several occasions, but wishing for it and actually watching the life drain from his father's eyes were two completely different things.

He glanced up at Sam who was standing guard over the grave, shotgun in hand. "So tell me again, why I'm diggin' up this lady's grave in the pouring rain?"

"Told you three times already," Sam said, heaving a deep sigh, and Jax could tell Sam wished that Dean was there instead of him. "An' it stopped raining well over a half hour ago."

"So not the point," Jax muttered as he heaved another load of heavy mud over the side of the grave. "Just don't see what the hell any of this has ta do with hunting the demons that killed my uncle." He wouldn't say his brother, no, Nick was still alive somewhere, Jax was almost sure of it. After all, he would know if his brother was dead, would feel it.

"We don't just hunt demons, Jax. An' believe me when I say you're no where near ready to hunt even this spirit." Sam swung to look around as the wind kicked up, a low eerie moan traveling on the stiff breeze. "So just keep diggin'."

"Anyone ever tell ya that yer really kinda bossy?" Jax asked as he hefted several more shovels full of dirt over his shoulder.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're really kind of a pain in the ass?"

"Yeah," Jax chuckled, "actually kinda think it's part of my charm."

"Think again," Sam muttered, rolling his eyes. He nudged his head toward the deep hole Jax was standing in, and said, "Think maybe you could try an' shovel a little faster? Sunrise is like six hours from now, an' I'd like to be finished by then."

"Ya would, huh?" Jax slammed the tip of the shovel down into the dirt, and glared up at Sam who was smirking at him."Well, anytime yer freakin' ready ta get yer ass down here an' start shovelin', I'm more than ready ta stand there doin' nothin' like yer doin'."

"Wanna make it back to the motel in one piece, so until you can actually hit more than just air with a gun, think you'll be diggin' out a whole helluva lot of graves."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Jax muttered as he resumed digging. "Could've just said somethin' like, hey, Jax, not everyone hits the target after the first thirty shots," he grumbled under his breath, "but no, ya just had ta go an' rain on my happy little parade, didn't ya."

"What'd ya say?" Sam squat down beside the grave, resting his shotgun on his knees, and although he looked relaxed in his posture, Jax noted how his eyes shifted back and forth in search for any possible signs of impending danger.

"Was just sayin' how lucky I am ta have someone as freakin' awesome as yerself ta teach me everythin' ya know . . . hell, I feel so much smarter already." With another shovel full of dirt, he finally scraped the top of the coffin. "I mean really, if they ever decide ta teach a college course on how ta dig a big freakin' hole an' need a good teacher, I'm sure they have yer number on speed dial."

"Naw . . . already teachin' advanced ass kicking, but I'm sure they have a remedial course in it if you're interested."

"Yeah, umm . . . about that, which of us two kicked three guys' asses at the Thunderback Tavern while the other played damsel in distress?" Jax chuckled when he saw the older hunter grimace in response to his taunt, but the laughter died on his lips when he heard a deep screeching sound echoing through the cemetery. "What the hell was that, Sam?"

"Don't know," Sam tensed as he stood and raised his shotgun, slowly pivoting around in search for whatever had made the noise. "Just salt and burn the bones, Jax, so we can get the hell out of here."

Jax bent and opened the lid, peered down inside, and then glanced back up at Sam. "Umm . . . there ain't no bones here, Sam."

"What the hell do you mean there aren't any bones?" Sam blurted out, as he looked down inside the grave. "They have to be there."

"They're not," Jax's snapped, angry that Sam didn't think he was smart enough to know if there were bones in a grave or not.

"Where the hell are they, they're supposed to be here."

"Oh, I dunno, dude, maybe they felt a little pasty an' decided ta take a trip ta freakin' Florida for a tan." Heaving an exasperated groan, Jax gestured around toward the other graves, and added, "Or maybe, just maybe, one of the other vengeful spirits who lives thirteen graves over to the right was havin' a freakin' all-nighter, an' good ol' Amy could never resist a good party."

"So not — " the words died abruptly on Sam's lips as an explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet, fiery light filling the sky. Above the tops of the tree, writhing flames shot heavenward as the ground continued to quake.

All around them gravestones cracked and tumbled to the ground as the unnatural fire spread quickly through the cemetery. Thick black smoke billowed toward them and from within its depths a fiery creature, unlike anything Jax had ever seen before, emerged. To Jax it seemed as if fire poured molten from the creature's skin like scorching raindrops, searing everything it came in contact with.

Dumbstruck, and not able to take his eyes off the creature, Jax waited for Sam to tell him what to do. But when Sam just stood there, mouth hanging wide open, with nearly the same expression Jax knew he was wearing, Jax uttered, "Thinkin' if that's Amy, salting an' burning her ain't gonna do the trick."

"Get out of the grave," Sam ordered, seeming to come to his senses. "Move, Jax!" Sam quickly moved to put himself between the creature and Jax, and shouted back over his shoulder, "You get out of that grave an' run. You hear me . . . run an' don't you dare freakin' look back."

Jax hauled himself out of the grave, grabbed his gun, and stalked to where Sam was standing. "What the hell is it, Sam?" Jax hollered over the near-deafening roar of the blazing inferno.

"A demon . . . a really freakin' powerful demon. Now go!"

"Ya can't kill that thing all by yerself, I'm stayin' here." Jax squared his jaw in determination, not about to leave Sam alone with the demon no matter what the older hunter said.

"Can't kill it, don't have the Colt," Sam pushed Jax backwards and hastily stepped in front of him again, "best I can do is hold it off while you get the hell out of here. Now go!"

"Not lettin' ya take that thing on alone, Sam." Jax pushed Sam out of the way, moving to stand beside him again, and raised his gun to take aim at the demon. "Not lettin' ya die here alone. So either we both run or we both stay here an' fight. It's yer choice cause I ain't leavin' here without ya."

Sam briefly narrowed his eyes on Jax before returning his full attention to the demon. "Damn, it, Jax, don't you freakin' get it? You'll die."

"Yeah, pretty much figured that one out myself," Jax chuckled as he swiped away the sweat beading above his brows, "still not leavin'."

Sam never got the chance to respond as the demon splayed out its fiery arms, and raised them slightly. Before Jax even realized what was happening, he was being lifted off the ground and hurtled through the heated air, slamming full-force into a burning tree. Stark pain ripped through his upper arm, and his breath caught in his throat as he glanced down and saw a thick jagged tree limb sticking out of his skin beneath the fleshy part under his biceps.

Not having the time to even think about how much pain he was in, Jax was thrown through the air again, this time bashing into a tall marble gravestone. No chance to recover or even to catch his breath, Jax found himself being tossed through the air again, a cry of pain escaping him as he smashed into another tree.

Vaguely he thought he could hear the sounds of Sam yelling to him and also the sound of gunfire as he was continuously tossed around like a rag doll. Colliding into another tree, Jax's head struck hard, vision blurring as he tried desperately to remain conscious.

Through a pain-filled haze, Jax weakly raised his head to look to where the demon was, and waited for the creature to finish him off. The demon lowered his arms and stared back at Jax, its ominous laughter rising above the din of noise created by the fire. The molten flames briefly died away from the creature, and Jax saw his own reflection smiling back at him. Then in an explosion of riotous flames, the demon disappeared.

"Nick," Jax mumbled dejectedly as he felt himself being lifted off the ground once more.

"I gotcha, Jax," Sam said reassuringly, although Jax thought he detected a slight tremor in the older man's voice. "Gonna get you out of here, an' you're gonna be okay. You hear me, Jax? You're gonna be okay."

"No . . . n-not okay." Jax's eyes slowly fluttered open then closed as he thought of Nick trying to kill him. Stark pain more virulent than all the suffering he'd ever endured at the hands of others rapidly burned though his heart, shattering it completely. "G-got no one l-left . . . no one . . . . j-jus' let me die, S-Sa . . . ." Jax's voice trailed off as welcoming darkness found him.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks to everyone for reading and for the awesome reviews!! bambers_;)

_Chapter Nine_

Rowan confidently sauntered into St. Christen hospital's waiting area, the collar on his black leather trench coat flipped up, shoulder-length raven-colored hair nestled beneath it. Although it was almost ten o'clock at night, he still wore darkly tinted aviator sunglasses. A smirk settled on his features when he noticed Dean sitting in the far corner of the waiting room. After giving a slight nod to the nurse sitting behind the admit desk, he headed over to Dean.

"What's with the sunglasses," Dean asked as he gestured toward them, not yet ready to make a deal with Rowan.

"Hospital lights bother my eyes," Rowan replied as he took a seat beside Dean. "So how bad off is he?" he asked, wasting no time getting to the point of their meeting.

"Don't know, no one's telling me anything." Dean glanced in the direction of the ER for what must have been the hundredth time, praying that someone would come through the doors to give him some word as to how Joshua was doing. But when no one came through the automatic doors, Dean returned his attention to Rowan.

"Must be in pretty bad shape if you're calling me." Rowan leaned back against the cushioned chair. Crossing his arms and stretching out his long, muscular legs, he causally crossed them as well. "An' you think they can help him?"

"What other choice do I have? Couldn't get his fever down, everything I tried didn't work."

"Huh, so the hospital was the only option left open to you . . . interesting." Rowan was silent for a moment as he glanced around at the people waiting to hear about their loved ones. Lightly ruffling his fingers through his unruly hair, he then motioned toward them. "You know, I can hear everyone of their heartbeats as they quicken. It's really quite a rush to be able to hear someone's fear . . . hearts pounding . . . blood surging through their veins," he hesitated as he looked back to Dean, a lopsided grin on his face, "but none of their's is beating quite so fast as your own. You must be absolutely terrified."

"Not gonna let you get inside my head. You want the amulet, it's yours, I just need the money."

"Not even gonna give me the chance to gloat, Dean?" Rowan chuckled, drawing several people's attention to him. "Where would be the fun in that?"

"When my six months of guarding Joshua are finished," Dean went on to say, ignoring Rowan's comments, "you can have amulet, but don't think for a moment that I wouldn't hunt your sorry ass down, and kill all your girls."

"Threats are so unbecoming between friends, Dean. And as I'm the only one you've got at the moment, maybe you should at least try being a little more pleasant toward me."

"Do we have a deal?"

"What if I said I wanted the amulet right now?" Rowan questioned as he eyed the amulet hanging loosely around Dean's neck. "What if I don't want to wait almost five and half more months to get it?"

"No, the full six months or no deal."

"Alright, no deal then," Rowan stood to leave and turning his back on Dean, he started to head for the entrance, calling back over his shoulder, "Hope the kid pulls through, but at the moment I just don't think you get it."

Dean watched as he walked away, knowing Joshua's best shot for help was this hospital, and Rowan was the only one who could afford to give him the money he needed. _I can't let him die. Can't just sit here an' do nothin' while Joshua gets worse. _Rowan wasn't even a quarter of the way across the room, when Dean called out to him. "It's yours." Unclasping the chain, he held it out to Rowan. "Take the damn thing."

The vampire turned, and shook his head in clear disappointment at Dean. "Knew you didn't get it, Dean. Knew you didn't understand." Long strides carried him back to Dean in a matter of seconds, and Rowan glared down at him. "Put that damn chain back around your freakin' neck, and if you take it off again, I swear to God, I'll kill you before Lucifer ever has the chance."

Brows drawn together in confusion, Dean did as Rowan asked, and looked up at him. "Don't understand, thought you wanted the amulet?"

"See, Dean, here's your problem from the way I see it," Rowan once again resumed his seat next to Dean, and then continued, "you're controlled by your emotions. An' you'd rather damn yourself to Hell than to try to stand on your own to feet for a change. But I'm not gonna let you do it this time. This time there are no deals."

"You don't know anything about me," Dean adamantly declared, not liking it in the least that a vampire was rubbing his own faults in his face.

"Huh, think you'll find there's isn't much I don't know. See that woman over there, the one who's trying to look properly saddened by her husband's mysterious illness?" Rowan gestured to a dark-haired woman sitting across the room with her head lowered, "Right now she's praying that whatever she's heard about arsenic poisoning is true, and also wondering about a vacation to someplace exotic once her husband kicks it." He laughed at Dean's look of disbelief. "But what she doesn't know is that her husband gambled away most of the money they had, and is in debt to some people who wouldn't see his death as payment in full."

"An' then there's you, Dean." Rowan glanced back at Dean, and taking off his sunglasses he narrowed his green-eyed gaze on Dean. "You're really kind of a long standing joke amongst demons. Although they grudgingly admire your hunting abilities, most find you to be really rather pathetic." Rowan drew in a quick breath as he once again looked at the woman. At that moment she glanced up at him, their eyes locking briefly before she averted her gaze. "Think she knows I'm gonna kill her, Dean? Think anyone will even miss her when she's gone?"

Dean knew Rowan was taunting him, was trying to drive home his point that although Dean might be a damn good hunter, there were just some things he couldn't control or prevent from happening. The woman would die because he said she would. It was as simple as that, but it still didn't quell his need to try and protect her. And yet he knew it was useless, Rowan couldn't die, couldn't be sent packing on his way to Hell where he belonged. If there was anything he'd learned so far, it was that. Rowan had made that point quite clear when Dean sliced off his head with a large shard from the mirror he'd broken while at Rowan's home, and the next day the vampire showed up at his door as if it had never happened.

"You think Joshua's gonna die, don't you?" Dean asked, knowing that Rowan wouldn't have mentioned the woman if he didn't want Dean to fully understand the hopelessness of some situations.

Leaning over to rest his forearms on his thighs, Rowan cast a sidelong glance in Dean's direction, and said, "Really wanna know what I think?" When Dean gave a quick nod, Rowan continued, "Think in about five minutes the doctor's gonna come through those doors," he gestured toward the double doors separating the ER from the waiting room, "with a bemused expression on his face, and tell you that they can't figure out why Joshua is sick, and what's more they can't get his fever to come down."

They both fell silent as they watched and waited, and true to what Rowan had said, the doctor appeared not five minutes later. The doctor's brow was furrowed in a tentative frown as he glanced around the room, spotted Dean and headed in their direction. Dean stood immediately and met him halfway, dread creeping into his heart as the man's features remained somber.

"How's Joshua?" he managed to say, his heart hammering away inside his chest.

The doctor looked down at the clipboard in his hand, flipped through a few pages, and then glanced back up at Dean. "We're doing everything we can for him, but so far all medical intervention has failed. His fever is dangerously high, and for some unexplainable reason we can't seem to draw any blood to find out what's wrong with him." The man hesitated as he once again looked at the clipboard in his hand. "We're trying to run some more tests, but without blood work it is making it kind of difficult." he bobbed his head in the direction of the ER, "gotta get back in there, but I wanted to come and give you an update as to your son's condition. So if you don't have any questions — "

Rowan cleared his throat, as he stood and walked over to them. Dean couldn't help but notice how the doctor smiled in recognition of the vampire, and wondered for the briefest of moments if he might be a vampire as well.

"Dr. Everett," Rowan greeted the man with a warm smile as he shook the doctor's hand. "Good to see you again."

"Good to see you too, Mr. St. Christen. What are you doing here so late at night?"

"Well, my friend, Dean" he nudged his head in Dean's direction, "called to tell me his son, Joshua, was seriously ill and asked if I would come down to the hospital." His grin deepened as he saw clear confusion register on Dean's face. "I want no expense spared in making sure Joshua gets the best of care possible, understand?"

"Absolutely, I'll see to it myself," Everett nearly gushed.

"And have Angie down in accounting bill it as a hospital expense, we'll write it off as a charitable contribution."

Dean's mouth dropped open as he stared from Rowan to Everett then back again, not believing what he was hearing. "You — you own this hospital?" he asked dumbfounded.

"Course I do, Dean, that's why you called me, remember?" Rowan chuckled. "Don't you recall me telling you we have one of the largest blood banks in the country. I've made it my pet project to see that people are out there donating blood for those in need."

"You're real lucky to know a man like Mr. St. Christen, Dean." Everett said, "He's the head of so many charitable foundations, it's really hard to keep track of them all. Don't know how he does it."

"Yeah, he's a real peach." Dean rolled his eyes, listening to the doctor speak of Rowan as if he was an actual saint instead of the vampire Dean knew him to be. "I want to see Joshua now."

"You can come back with me, but I'm afraid you'll only be able to stay for a few minutes."

Dr. Everett gestured toward the ER, and started to head in that direction, when a commotion at the entrance caught their attention.

"Dean," Rowan grabbed hold of Dean's arm and yanked him forward and then shifted so that he stood in front of Dean. "Whatever you do, don't move from here." He glance back over his shoulder then looked back at Dean. "Just turn around, and head for those doors," he pointed toward a set of double doors off to the right.

Dean was about to question him, when he heard his brother's voice as clear as if Sam was standing beside him.

"Need a doctor, my little brother's hurt," Sam demanded in a deep authoritative tone, and Dr. Everett rushed over to them.

Anyone else would have thought Sam was totally in control of the situation, but Dean heard the slight tremor in his voice. The tremor that belied his confidence, that bespoke of how terrified Sam was that his _little brother_ wouldn't be all right, and Dean couldn't help the stab of anger and jealousy it sparked within his heart.

Dean took a step forward, wanting to take his rightful place at his brother's side, but Rowan stopped him. "Get the hell out of my way, Rowan," he hissed, "Sam needs me."

"Think you got it wrong, Dean. It's you who needs him," Rowan countered in a cruel and cutting manner. "Now turn your sorry ass around and head for those doors, unless you really want to see the look in your brother's eyes when you die."

He knew what Rowan was saying was the truth, but Dean couldn't move. His legs seemed to have a mind of their own, and right now they wanted desperately to run over to where Sam was and to hell with the consequences. It had been the first time in weeks that he'd been this close to his brother, the first time he'd heard Sam's voice, and the pain and loss staggered him. His knees buckled, and had it not been for Rowan catching him, Dean would have collapsed in a heap on the floor.

And he finally got it, finally Dean understood what it must have been like for Sam over the past year to stand at the sidelines and watch all-the-while knowing Dean was going to die. But now it was Dean's turn to stand by and watch while every ingrained instinct begged for him to react. It was right then that he knew some things were far worse than dying, and now he was being paid back a hundredfold for what he'd forced his little brother to endure.

"Get the hell out of my way," Sam's determined voice cut through Dean's thoughts like a knife, "going in there with Jax."

"Sir — " Dr. Everett tried to argue, but Sam cut him off.

"Said I was going in there with Jax, he's my responsibility, an' I'll be damned if he wakes up an' I'm not there."

Each word Sam spoke cut a little deeper into Dean's heart. And although he'd told Sam to accept his decision and move on with his life, deep down he was forced to admit that some small part of him hoped that his brother couldn't.

"What did you expect him to do, Dean?" Rowan asked as he shifted to watch Sam arguing with the security guards who were now standing beside him, totally oblivious to the fact that Dean was even in the same room as him. He turned back to Dean, "Huh, thought he'd follow you into Hell, like some huge revolving door that he could just enter in and out of at will. He's moving on the best way he knows how. It's what you told him you wanted him to do, so don't blame him just cause you didn't actually mean it."

"Not blamin' him, just didn't expect to actually be around to see it," Dean muttered as he turned and head for the double doors, with head hung low.


	10. Chapter 10

_hope everyone is still enjoying this story and series...thanks so much for reading and reviewing!! not too many more chappies to go!! as always, let me know what you think as i really do live for reviews!! bambers;)_

_Chapter Ten_

After making a quick stop at the blood bank where Rowan snatched several bags of fresh blood, pocketing them in his trench coat, he led Dean to his office on the third floor of the hospital. Once inside the expansive office, Rowan cut open the bag of blood with a letter opener on his desk and grabbed a crystal glass from a large oak cabinet in the corner of the room. Pouring it into the glass, he then lifted it to his lips, and downed the entire contents in one shot.

"Don't look at me like that, Dean," he said as he saw the scowl forming on Dean's face. "Think it's so easy with all this fresh food around to have to drink this? Goes against everything I am, but I think even you'll agree that it's better than the alternative."

Dean looked away in disgust and noticed all Rowan's awards. Quickly scanning them, he swung back to look at Rowan. "Man of the Year 2005?" He shook his head in disbelief as he once again stared at all the awards hanging on the wall honoring Rowan. "Got the freakin' keys to the city, too?"

"As a matter of fact I do," Rowan chuckled as he gestured to a plaque with a set of brass keys adorning it. "Donate enough money and people fall over themselves to hand you awards. An' what can I say, people love me. Bet you don't receive too many awards with that winning personality of yours."

Rowan watched as Dean looked around his office, the hunter's stern gaze stopping more than once on the large wooden cross adorning the wall with a depiction of Jesus crucified on it. Dean made his way around the room, his brows pulling together in confusion as he saw several more crosses and religious artifacts. He paused to stare at a copy of the Last Supper, and Rowan could sense that he was trying to figure out why a vampire would have these things in his possession.

"Would you believe that I commissioned Leonardo Da Vinci to paint that picture for me after he finished the original?"

"No."

"It's the truth," he hesitated, trying to decide how much of his past he wanted to share with the hunter. "Course I had him make a few subtle changes. Not ones you would probably even notice, but I do."

"Why do you have all this stuff?"

"They're a reminder, Dean, of another time . . . a life lost."

"You were religious before you became a vampire?" Dean turned to look at him, quirking a brow in puzzlement as he once again looked at the large wooden cross. "Like a priest or something?"

"Something like that." Rowan frowned, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the desk. "Let's just say I know the real reasons behind why people think vampires are repelled by crosses."

"That's just a myth. Killed a lot of vampires and none of them were ever afraid of crosses."

"Really?" Rowan gave a curt nod as he glanced at the cross. "Cause they terrify the hell out of me."

Dean narrowed his green eyes on Rowan as if he were trying to decide if he'd missed a very valuable piece of information. "So they terrify you, yet your office is filled with them. Somehow I find that a little hard to believe."

"Really don't care what you believe, Dean." Rowan gestured to the amulet around Dean's neck, and said, "There are twelve of them in all, your's being the twelfth . . . and the one you're wearing once belonged to me. Guess that means it really kinda sucks to be you."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Mean that it's all about faith, you don't have it . . . you never did. Michael knows that. Hell, even I know that. So why would God choose you to be a Guardian?" When Dean remained silent, Rowan added, "Think real hard, Dean. All the pieces of the puzzle are there right before your eyes, just got to fit them together. Course Sam's not here to do it for you, so that might mean you have to actually use your brain for a change."

Dean scrubbed his hand through his hair as he mulled over what Rowan had said. Silently he mouthed the words he was thinking under his breath as he looked from cross to the picture of the Last Supper. He recalled what Rowan had once said about the colt and the thirteen bullets as he studied the picture long and hard, and after several minutes he turned back to glance at Rowan.

"Twelve bullets. Twelve amulets. Twelve disciples."

"Very good, Dean. Care to guess which one I am in the picture." Rowan smirked. "Or maybe you'd prefer to guess which one you are."

"That's not possible . . . I mean, I would never . . . ." his voice trailed off as he touched the amulet that now seemed to weigh heavily around his neck.

"You'd never what? Sell your own soul to save your brother . . . make deals with demons? Hell, if I could have been reincarnated, I would have come back as you." Rowan grinned. "So lucky me, now I get to be your moral conscience, kicking your sorry ass all the way to the bitter end so you don't make the same mistakes I made."

"So, Michael . . . they all believe I will betray Joshua? All of them?"

"I did it for silver, you'll do it for Sam."

Dean was about to argue, but the sound of the phone ringing cut him short. Rowan answered it, and glanced in Dean's direction, a frown creasing his brow.

"Yes, Doctor Fitzwater, Dean's here with me." There was a moment of silence as Rowan listened to what the doctor was saying. His frown deepened to a scowl, and Dean's heart caught in his throat, a shiver of fear and panic racing up his spine. "Uh huh, and you've tried everything?" After a long pause, he finally responded, "We'll be right there." He hung up the phone, and strode to the door with Dean right behind him.

"What'd he say?" Dean grabbed hold of Rowan's arm, and swung Rowan to face him. "What's the wrong with Joshua?"

"It's not good, Dean." Rowan heaved a sigh, and then scrubbed a hand across his face. "They've tried everything they medically know how to do, an' can't get his fever to break." He hesitated, and Dean could tell by the look on his face that Rowan was deliberately keeping something from him.

"What else?" Dean asked, not sure if he wanted the answer, knowing that if anything happened to Joshua it would be all his fault. He had been so worried about protecting Sam that he'd refused to see how sick the little boy was until it was too late.

"He slipped into a coma, Dean." Rowan eyed him for a moment, and Dean could've almost sworn he'd detect a look of sadness in the vampire's green eyes before Rowan lowered his head. "They say all his vital organs are shutting down, an' they don't expect him to make it through the night."

"No," Dean shook his head in disbelief, "that's not possible. You're lying . . .you have to be lying. It was just a fever . . . just a freakin' fever . . . I mean, Sam had lots of them when he was little an' I always took care of him," Dean said helplessly, the muscle in his cheek jerking erratically, tears threatening to fall.

"Think that's the point, you took care of Sam. How well were you taking care of Josh?" Glancing back up at Dean, Rowan muttered , "For what it's worth, I am truly sorry," then looked away, a pained expression on his features.

Without another word, Dean took off like a shot, sprinting toward the emergency room. Not about to wait for the elevator, he found the stairs and rushed down them, his thoughts solely on Joshua. Heart pounding furiously in his chest, he charged through the door, only to pull back when he saw Sam pacing back and forth in the waiting room.

For what must have been the first time in his life, Dean prayed that Sam would leave. With Sam there he couldn't get to Joshua, and Dean knew the little boy needed him. _Come on, Sammy, just leave . . . please, just for a minute. I got to get in there to be with Jay. He has to know I'm there for him. Can't let him die alone.  
_  
When all his prayers failed and Sam continued to pace waiting for news of Jax, Dean steeled himself knowing what he had to do, and stepped through the doors. Holding his breath, he waited knowing at any moment Sam would turn around and it would all be over. Dean just hoped he would have enough time once his brother saw him to get to Joshua before it was too late for both of them.

Heart pounding in his ears, Dean watched as his brother slowly began to turn around to head back toward him. And although he didn't think it was real, Dean imagined he could already hear the hell hounds charging furiously toward him. Swallowing hard, Dean closed his eyes mentally preparing himself for the look on his brother's face, and took a step further into the room.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Hey, I am auctioning off a story for a very good cause to help a fellow writer, so if you get a chance, take a look!! If you bid and win, i'll write any kind of story your heart desires!! Bambers;)

"We're running a Supernatural fanfic auction for the next two weeks (June 28 - July 12) benefiting a fellow writer, publisher, and friend who is in need of a wheelchair. Twenty-two writers (and one vidder!) have generously offered their talents and time to this endeavor, and every penny goes to the fund. The auction can be found at , under Miscellaneous-General, and registering to bid is fast and free. Donations are also gratefully accepted. For questions or to make a donation, please contact me at . I hope you'll come check it out and not only have some fun bidding on some great writers, but also help us raise money for a good cause!"  
K Hanna Korossy


	11. Chapter 11

_hope everyone is still enjoying this story and series...thanks so much for reading and reviewing... as always, let me know what you think as i really do live for reviews!! bambers;)_

_Chapter Eleven_

"Just itching to die, aren't you," Rowan grabbed Dean's arm and yanked him back, moving quickly to stand in front of him just as Sam turned fully to face them. "Can't let you do that, Dean, as you're my last hope."

"Get the hell outta my way, Rowan, gotta get to Jay."

"An' you're willing to risk dying to do it?" Rowan glanced over his shoulder at Sam who was staring at him quizzically. He looked back at Dean, eyes narrowing considerably as he continued, "Willing to give up your brother just to be there when Joshua dies?"

"I'll do what I have to do, Jay needs me," Dean stoically replied.

"Alright." Rowan was silent for a moment then gave a curt nod. "Here's what we're gonna do cause I'm not about to let you die. You stay here an' I'll go and distract Sam. When you see that he's not looking, I want your sorry ass through this room and those ER doors so freakin' fast it'll make your head spin, got me?"

Dean was quiet for a moment as he stared at the vampire who had time and time again come to his aid, not quite believing one of the things he'd sworn to destroy was now the only person he could trust and depend upon. Sure, Rowan had his own ulterior motives for doing so, but he still was probably the closest thing to a friend, other than Sam, that Dean had ever had.

"Why do you keep helping me?" Dean mumbled, it wasn't quite what anyone would consider a thank you, but it was what Dean really meant to say. "Haven't been nice to you . . . hell, not even close to being nice to you." He hesitated for a moment, knowing that Rowan would probably say it was because of the amulet, but now Dean wasn't so sure that it was the whole truth of things. "An' don't tell me it's all about the amulet cause I just don't buy that anymore."

Rowan glanced over his shoulder at Sam again, noticed he'd resumed pacing and then refocused his attention on Dean. "Can we talk about this some other time, like when Josh is better, an' your little brother isn't standing only a heartbeat away."

"No, wanna know now," Dean said resolutely, "if I'm gonna trust you, I need to know."

After several long moments, Rowan heaved a deep sigh, and replied, "Cause I owe someone . . . went against everything he believed in, an' befriended me. First friend I ever had . . . best friend I ever had."

"An' what the hell does that have to do with me?" Dean asked, still not understanding Rowan's reasoning.

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" Rowan grumbled, clearly not wanting to say anymore about the subject.

"What does this person have to do with me?" Dean reiterated, not about to let the matter go until he had the answer he wanted.

"Damn it, why the hell can't you just accept the fact that I'm helping you and let it go at that?" Rowan heaved another deep groan, and shook his head, now looking more than just a little annoyed. "Fine, his name was Michael Dean Winchester. Happy now?"

"Winchester?" Sam and Joshua forgotten for a moment, Dean quirked a puzzled brow as he gaped at Rowan in disbelief. "As in a relative of mine?"

"No, as in the gun," Rowan rolled his eyes, "yep, I was best friends with a gun, an' oh, the good times we had." He peered over his shoulder again, and then looked back at Dean, and Dean could tell the vampire was nearing the end of his patience. "Course your relative, you idiot. Was your grandfather many times removed. Now are we done here? Can we focus on Josh and Sam?"

Dean touched the amulet around his neck as understanding suddenly dawned on him. "You gave it to him . . . my amulet, you gave it to Michael Dean?" He recalled how his father had told him that his mother had saved the amulet for him, and how he'd always thought that had meant that it was a gift from her to him. Now he realized that it wasn't a gift from his mother, but another lie his father had told, but what he couldn't understand was why. "That's how it came to be mine, isn't it?"

"Dean, you're really not gonna understand this if I give you just a quick rundown version of what happened. So can we just save this for another time?" Rowan said, and before Dean had a chance to argue, Rowan did an about face and stalked toward Sam.

Hidden in the recesses of the stairwell, Dean watched as Rowan engaged in a conversation with Sam. When the vampire ushered Sam away toward the hospital admission desk, Dean bolted across the lobby and through the emergency room doors.

Once inside the ER, Dean walked the corridor, peering into every room, searching for Joshua. Hearing someone call for a crash cart, his heart lodged in his throat. Dean rushed to the room where he'd just seen several nurses and doctors hurry into, and cursed under his breath when he realized it was Jax they were trying to revive. Although Dean was certain there should be more noise coming from the examine room, all he could hear was the steady sound of the heart monitor as the line ran flat across the screen.

"Charge the paddles." Dean heard a doctor order as he held them aloft and waited to shock the younger man's heart. "Clear," the doctor called out, and everyone raised their hands from working on Jax, and within a moment his body arched upward as the shock was delivered.

"Come on, Jax," Dean muttered, holding his breath as the doctors delivered a second shock to the younger man. "Damn it, you fight, you hear me. Sammy needs you . . . so you better damn well fight this."

"Dean," Rowan called out to Dean as he strode down the hallway from the same way in which Dean had just come from. "What the hell are you doing? Josh is in the children's wing of the ER."

Dean turned to look helplessly at Rowan, and then gestured toward the room Jax was in. "He . . . he's dying."

"Yeah, I know," Rowan uttered as he briefly glanced in Jax's direction. "Heard his blood stop pumping through his veins as I was heading here to get you."

"Can't die," Dean looked once again to the vampire as he tried to reason out why it should bother him so much if Jax died. It wasn't as if even knew the younger man. Hell, he'd moved right in and had taken Dean's place practically the moment he'd supposedly died. If anything Dean should feel relieved, but at the moment all he could think of was how Sam didn't deserve to lose yet another person in his life. "Sam needs him."

"An' Joshua needs you, now get your ass moving," Rowan order, giving Dean a push toward the children's ward of the ER. "Can't help Jax if you don't help Joshua first."

Dean grabbed hold of the vampire's arm, halting him in his steps. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, feeling as if there was something the vampire was deliberately keeping from him. Dean might have consider himself a lot of things, but he had never considered himself stupid. Jax had shown up in Sam's life at nearly the same time as Joshua came into Dean's. And now they were both dying at practically the same time, as well. That was just a little too coincidental for Dean's liking. "You know something you're not telling me."

"Know a lot of things, Dean, thought you'd figured that out by now." Rowan shrugged free of Dean's hold on him, and stalked away, leaving Dean to follow.

"If Joshua dies, will Jax die as well?" Dean called out to Rowan, and the vampire stopped dead in his tracks. When Rowan failed to respond, Dean knew he had the answer he was looking for. "He will," he said, answering his own question, and then let out a slew of curse words.

Rowan swung to look at Dean, a pained expression on his face. "Look, Dean, don't know how this is all suppose to play out. Only He can know that," he gestured toward the heavens, "but there is a link between Joshua and Jax . . . an' from what I can gather from," he hesitated as if he wanted to tell Dean something important and then changed his mind, "from what I gathered, Jax is like . . . well, for lack of a better term, a holy spirit."

Dean quirked a brow, now more confused than ever, and didn't quite believe what he was hearing. "You gotta be kiddin' me?"

"What part of me looks like I'm joking?" Rowan stared stonily at Dean, his expression now hard and unforgiving. "It wasn't an accident that Jax found your brother, it was how it was meant to be."

"Why didn't Michael tell me this?"

Rowan scratched his head, looking as if he was trying to find the best way to explain the situation to Dean. "Damn it, Dean, you have to understand that I'm the last person you should be listening to, I've screwed up royally . . . what part of eternally damned didn't you get?"

"Doesn't answer my question." Tired of being a pawn in a game he had no control over, Dean crossed his arms, waiting for the vampire to tell him what the archangel had neglected to share. "Not taking another step until you do."

The vampire clenched and unclenched his fists, appearing as if he might just take a swing at Dean at any moment if he didn't get moving toward Joshua's room. Then after several very long moments, he heaved a deep sigh. "You form a trinity. You, Sam and Jax. Don't know how it works . . . Lucifer wasn't specific in the details, but he clearly said Jax was the spirit of the trinity. What that means I have no idea, but Lucifer definitely didn't like the idea of it. That much I could tell." After saying this, Rowan picked up his pace again, and Dean kept stride with him.

As they hurried toward Joshua's room, Dean mulled over what Rowan had said. "So you think Lucifer is doing this to Jay so we'll never get the chance to fight against him?"

"No, not him," Rowan tilted his head sideways to glance at Dean, a wry smile gracing his features, "not him," he repeated, making it very clear that what was happening to Joshua was someone else's doing.

Dean opened his mouth to ask if not Lucifer then who, but never got the chance as Rowan turned and entered Joshua's room. The little boy that Dean had come to care deeply for over the past few weeks, lay deathly still in the hospital bed with an oxygen mask covering his tiny face. As Dean listened to the slow bleep of the heart monitor, he narrowed his eyes in confusion, noticing the doctors hadn't even bothered to start any IV's.

"They did try, Dean," Rowan said as if to answer Dean's unasked question. "Couldn't get a line in. Couldn't get any clear x-rays or CAT scans either. They tried everything they could possibly think of doing, but nothing worked."

"So they're jus' gonna let him die," Dean mumbled as he trudged to Joshua's side, and sunk down onto the bed beside him. Gathering the little boy in his arms, Dean cradled Joshua to his chest as tears began to well in his eyes. "No one's even gonna try to save him?"

"Sometimes it's just out of their hands." Rowan crossed the room, and placed a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. "I know it's hard, but sometimes you just have to know when it's time to let go. People die, an' sometimes there's nothing you can do to stop it from happening."

A tight knot forming in his throat, Dean hugged Joshua even closer to his chest as tears slipped silently down his cheeks. "Like Sammy . . . is that what you're tryin' to say? That I shoulda let him go?"

"Not judging you, Dean," Rowan shook his head, "it's not my place to tell you what you did is wrong."

"But you are sayin' it was wrong."

Heaving a sigh, Rowan grabbed a chair, and sat down beside the bed. For the longest time he was silent, tears shimmering in his eyes as he stared at Joshua. "Hell, I dunno, Dean," he finally said, raking his fingers through his thick black hair in frustration, "probably would've done the same thing myself, but like I said before it's all about faith an' some of just don't have it."

Dean gave a curt nod of understanding. "So what you're sayin' is that some of us were just born damned to Hell, an' there isn't a freakin' thing we can do about it." Sadly, he turned to look at the heart monitor, and noticed as the seconds ticked by, Joshua's heartbeat slowed to near non-existent. "I'm so sorry, Jay," he cried, burying his face into Joshua's hair, "so damn sorry . . . but how the hell was I supposed to have faith when everyone around me always freakin' dies?"

"Dean." Rowan motioned toward the heart monitor just has several doctors and nurses rushed into the room, and Dean clung all the tighter to Joshua as he watched the monitor flatline. "Dean, let him go so they can work on him," the vampire ordered as he leapt out of his chair and grabbed hold of Dean's arm, trying to break Dean's grip on Joshua, to no avail.

"No!" Dean forcefully pushed Rowan away. "No one's touchin' him."

"Sir, we have to — " one of the doctor's tried to argue, but Dean quickly cut him off.

"You can't save him . . . you never could." With tears streaming down his face, Dean gathered Joshua in his arms, and headed toward the door. "Shouldn't have even brought him here," he called back over his shoulder as he rushed out of the room.

"Dean," Rowan shouted, and darted out of the room to catch up with him. "Where the hell are you going with him . . . he's gone." He gripped a hold of Dean's arm, stopping him. "He's gone. You have to let him go."

Glaring at the vampire, Dean yanked his arm free. "Didn't let Sammy die . . . an' I'll be damned if I let Jay die either." With Joshua clutched tightly to his chest, he strode away from vampire.

"What the hell ya gonna do, Dean?" Rowan hollered out to him, not caring who heard him, "You have nothing left to bargain with . . . your soul is already damned."

"Doesn't matter," Dean shouted back, not caring about all the people who stopped and gawked at him as he passed by with Joshua in his arms, "got something else they want," he added as he glanced down at his amulet.

Rowan stopped dead in his tracks as he watched Dean pick up his pace, and realized what Dean intended to do. "Don't you dare trade that damn amulet, Dean. It's mine." He set off at a dead-run as Dean sprinted toward the entrance of the ER. "It's mine, damn it. You traded it for his life an' there's no hope for either of us."

"Don't care," Dean shouted back over his shoulder as he dodged around doctors, nurses, medical equipment and patients in gurneys. "Gonna save him."

As Dean burst through the double doors of the ER room, and headed out into the night, someone grabbed hold of Rowan's arm in a steely grip. Rowan struggle to break free, but no matter how hard he fought to break free, the grip was just too strong.

"Let him go," the man said as Rowan finally still and turned to face the him. "There's nothing more you can do to help him. Joshua is dead. He failed."

"Just give him a little more time, I'm beggin' ya," Rowan pleaded as he stared into cold, unforgiving blue eyes. "Just give him a chance, Michael."

"Already gave him enough chances," Michael stoically replied, crossing his arms across his expansive chest. "The moment he bargains away the amulet for Joshua's life, the hell hounds will rip him apart an' he'll be cast into Hell."

"Then let me stop him," Rowan tried to reason, but had a feeling it wouldn't do any good. "I can make him understand."

"No, he has to do this on his own." Michael's grip tightened around Rowan's arm, trapping him from trying to escape. "You've already done enough damage in your lifetime."

"Dean never had a chance, did he?" Rowan muttered dejectedly, trying his damnedest to hide the hurt and pain the archangel's words caused him, but couldn't quite manage it.

"It was like you said, Rowan," Michael chided, "it's all about faith, and neither of you ever had it, an' I seriously doubt you ever will."


	12. Chapter 12

_Thanks so much for reading and reviewing... as always, let me know what you think as i really do live for reviews!! bambers;)_

_Chapter Twelve_

Dean stood just inside the entrance of the church for a moment with tears shimmering in his eyes. Twice he had almost turned around and left, but for some unknown reason he just couldn't bring himself to leave the quiet stillness of the sanctuary.

With Joshua in his arms, Dean slowly made his way down the long aisle lined on either side with long cushioned benches. He paused at the altar and glanced up at the cross flanked by two menacing looking angels. Heartbroken, Dean trudged up the stairs and laid Joshua down beneath the cross.

He knelt beside Joshua, and drew the little boy's lifeless body into his lap. "God, I'm so damn sorry, Jay . . . D-didn't mean for this to happen," Dean's voice hitched in his throat as he choked on a sob. Brushing away the tears clouding his vision, he drew in a shaky breath, and then continued. "I wasn't . . . I tried . . . I mean, you weren't supposed to die. Why the hell couldn't I save you. It was only a fever . . . God, it was only a freakin' fever." Dean hugged Jay tightly to him as deep heartbroken sobs racked his body. "Jus' wanna take it back . . . wanna go back to that night, an' do it over again." Recalling how in anger he'd told Joshua that he didn't like him, Dean heart broke a little more, shattering in little pieces. "Didn't mean it, Jay. God, I so didn't mean it . . . it just hurt so damn much when you said you hated me."

With tears streaming down his cheeks, Dean looked to the two statues of archangels. "Please jus' let him live . . . this wasn't his fault," he begged, praying that Michael would hear him, and bring Joshua back to life. "God, just punish me . . . send me to Hell . . . do whatever you want to me . . . jus' bring him back. He's only a little boy, for Christ's sake."

For the longest time Dean waited, trying desperately to have the faith that Rowan was so certain the eldest Winchester lacked, but when nothing happened, he gave a curt nod in understanding. "Huh, thought so." Unclasping his amulet, Dean placed it in the little boy's hand, then stood and turned to leave. Dean was halfway down the aisle when he heard someone loudly clear their throat. For a brief moment he stilled, not wanting to turn around to see who was trying to get his attention.

"So you're giving up?" came a voice from behind Dean that he didn't recognize, and although the man's tone was mild and soothing to Dean's ears, he found that he was absolutely terrified to actually turn to face the stranger. "A man's worth can be found in his heart, Dean. Sometimes even angels can forget that."

He hung his head low as guilt and shame ate away at his insides. "I . . . I wasn't takin' care of him like I should've been," he reluctantly admitted, still not turning to face the man. "It's my fault he died."

"I see," the man said, but Dean could find no trace of condemnation in the man's tone. "What made you come here instead of the crossroads to make another deal?"

"Dunno," Dean shrugged, the feelings of guilt now nearly staggering him, "was headin' there, an' I . . . I just remembered the look on Sammy's face when he found out I had a year to live. Remembered how I felt when my Dad sold his soul for me, an' I jus' couldn't do it again."

"I've been watching you for some time now, Dean, and I'll have to admit that I haven't always been pleased with what I've seen." He paused as if reflecting on all the horrible things he'd witnessed Dean do in his lifetime, and then continued, "You've pretty much worked your way through the seven deadly sins. Luxuria, gula, avaritia, acedia, ira, invidia, and let us not forget superbia," he ticked off the names of all seven sins in Latin. "And truthfully if you were to be judged solely by these standards alone, Michael would probably be right about you."

"Am I being judged?" Dean couldn't help but ask, and held his breath waiting for a response, fearing what he would hear.

"However, unlike Michael, I do see the big picture, Dean," he responded after a moment, and Dean slowly let out the breath he was holding. "I see a man who has tried to do the right thing. I see a man who would give his life to protect those he loves. A man who has fought against the evils of this world his entire life . . . who has sacrificed what he could have had, regardless of how much he might have wanted a normal life, to protect innocent lives. These things have merit, too, and cannot be overlooked."

"So, if you aren't here to condemn me to Hell, why are you here?" Dean knew he was pushing his luck asking the question, but the words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them from coming out.

"Because I wanted to know something," the man responded, and Dean could detect no anger or malice in his tone. "Something only you could tell me."

"What do you wanna know?"

"Why did you think so little of yourself that you just threw it all away?" There was such bitter sadness in the man's voice when he said this that Dean began to tremble. "Your life was a precious gift, and you just sold your soul as if it meant nothing. Do you really believe yourself that worthless?"

The weight of the man's sorrow, staggered Dean, his breath hitching in his throat as he tried to think of the right words to say in answer to the question. Knees buckling, Dean gripped a hold of the backrest of one of the cushioned pews to keep himself upright.

"I . . . I'm not like Sam . . . ." Dean's voice trailed off, knowing how stupid that sounded.

"That's right, you're not," the man continued on with Dean's line of thought. "You're Dean. An' you know, as far as I can tell, there's really nothing wrong with just being Dean."

"You don't understand, I was supposed to protect him. My Dad trusted me to watch over Sammy, an' he died because of me."

"No, he died because Jake murdered him, and that was not your fault." The man fell silent for a moment, and thinking he might have gone, Dean chanced a quick sideways glance. But instead of seeing a person, the only thing he saw a near blinding, glimmering golden light. "You have to understand, Dean, I am not punishing you by keeping you from your brother. I am trying to make you stronger. I am trying to make you see that you have worth in this world that has nothing to do with being Sam's protector. But until you learn to stand on your own two feet, apart from Sam, you will always be a liability to each other."

"Don't know if I can do that," Dean responded truthfully. "I mean, if Jay is any judge of how well I do on my own . . . I . . . I can't do it."

"And yet you were willing to spend an eternity apart from your brother in Hell without giving it hardly any thought at all," the man countered smoothly. "All I was asking for was six months."

"That was different."

"How so, Dean?" the man softly questioned. When Dean failed to respond, he continued, "Think hard about that question because I will ask it of you again one day."

Dean swallowed hard, not liking the sound of what the man had just said. "What about Jay," he asked, wanting nothing more than to change the subject. "He . . . he didn't deserve to die because of me. Please jus' bring him back . . . take me instead. Just don't punish him for something that I did."

"I'm sorry, Dean, I just can't do that."

Upon hearing that, Dean forgot his previous fears, and swung to glare at the man, but found he was standing completely alone inside the church. The intense glimmering light that he'd seen when he'd chanced a glanced was now nothing more than the flickering glow of candles on the altar. His gaze then fell to Joshua, who was still laying motionless on the ground.

Fresh tears sprang and fell from Dean's eyes as he crumpled to his knees. He stayed like that for the longest time, praying and waiting for the man to return, to no avail. A hand on his shoulder finally drew him out of his constant vigil, and as he glanced up he saw Rowan standing beside him. The vampire took a seat in the pew beside where Dean was crouched on the floor, and peered up at the cross.

"Checked every crossroads I could think of to find you," Rowan finally said, as he gave Dean a quick sidelong glance. "Bet you never realized exactly how many crossroads there really are in this damn town, did you?" He hitched a thumb over his shoulder, and continued on when Dean still failed to speak. "Was surprised as all hell to find your car sitting outside of here. Certainly wasn't where I'd thought I'd find you."

"Jax die," Dean muttered, never taking his eyes off Joshua.

"Don't know," Rowan heaved a sigh as he raked his fingers through his hair. "Left the hospital soon after you did."

"Hell hounds lookin' for me?" Dean asked, and chanced a glance in Rowan's direction before quickly lowering his head, afraid to see what he might become now that he'd failed to protect Joshua.

Rowan bit pensively at his lower lip, and then shook his head. "Haven't heard them." The vampire drew in a slow calming breath as he looked once more to the cross on the altar. "You could run, Dean. I'd make sure they couldn't find you."

"Can't do that," Dean adamantly refused.

"Sure you can, Dean," Rowan tried to reason, "I could go with you, you'd never have to be alone."

Dean scrubbed a hand across his face, then slowly got his feet and sat beside the vampire. "You think that's why I failed to save Jay, isn't it?"

"Naww . . . ." a wry grin crossed Rowan's hawkish features, "think the cards were stacked against you to begin with. Demons after you, angels who didn't believe in you . . . an' well, then there was me. I probably didn't help matters much."

"Will you come with me to the crossroads? Don't really want to go alone this time around."

Rowan gave a curt nod, his features now impassive. "Sure, Dean, if you're sure this is what you want to do."

Standing to leave, Dean gestured toward Joshua's lifeless body. "Left the amulet with him, after you take me to the crossroads, I want you to come back here and get it. It belonged to you, an' I want you to have it back."

"Not comin' back here, Dean," Rowan stood to follow Dean out of the church. "Gonna stay with you at the crossroads for as long as it takes to bring you back," he said resolutely. "Gonna find a way."

"You don't have to do that. I'm giving you the amulet, no strings attached."

"Yeah, I know that," Rowan chuckled as he hitched an arm around Dean's shoulder. "But the eternally damned have to stick together."

"Nice sentiment," Dean rolled his eyes.

"It is, isn't it."

At the door, Dean hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder at Joshua one last time. "Could've done a better job, ya know. Coulda been a great Guardian if things had been different. If I had been different."

"For what it's worth, I think you could've been, too." Rowan said as he headed out the door.

Dean was about to follow, but something caught his eye, and he stopped dead in his tracks. It was a subtle movement, but a movement nonetheless. In a shot, he sprinting down the aisle, and up the steps to where Joshua was laying on the ground. As Dean dropped to the ground, Joshua's body arched upward as he drew in several gulps of air. Slowly the little boy's eyelids fluttered open. Joshua rubbed his eyes, glanced up at Dean and a small smile crept across his tiny face.

"Tired, Chipmunk, can we go home?" Dean instantly gathered Joshua in his arms and hugged him tightly to his chest. "Squishin' me, Chipmunk," Joshua uttered as he wriggled in Dean's arms.

"Jay . . . ." Dean pulled back and stared in disbelief at the little boy who had been dead a moment before. "Don't understand . . . you were . . . you'd . . . he said . . . ." his voice trailed off, knowing he wasn't making any sense.

Joshua grabbed hold of Dean's face, squeezing Dean's cheeks between his tiny fingers. "Father said to tell you somethin'."

"What?" Dean uttered, completely dumbfounded.

"Said he couldn't do as ya asked. He doesn't make deals." Joshua scratched his head as if wondering if he'd left anything out, and then his eyes rounded as a genuine smile lit up his face. "Almost forgot. Said to tell ya, he's not punishin' ya, an' thinks you'll find yer own way with my help."

"He does, does he?" Dean glanced up at the cross and grinned. He breathed a silent thank you and then gathered Joshua up in his arms and carried him down the stairs. As they strode down the aisle, Joshua reached around Dean's neck and clasped the amulet back in place around his throat. "So you're gonna stick around then, Jay?"

"Uh huh," Joshua yawned tiredly, "you gonna take me to a baseball game, Chipmunk?"

"Sure, maybe even a football game, too." Dean hesitated for a moment as he looked up and saw Rowan waiting at the door. "Course that is if we can get Rowan to come with us. Think he doesn't wanna be alone anymore either."

"He gonna stay with us?" Joshua asked, eyeing the vampire.

"Uh huh, if he wants to." Dean looked once more to Rowan, and then cracked a grin. "So how about it, Rowan? As you said, the eternally damned have to stick together."

"Well, I'm not stayin' in any damn cheap motels if that what you have in mind," Rowan grumbled as he took up his steps behind Dean and Joshua. "I'm a five-star hotel kinda guy . . . So, if I'm comin' along for the ride then you two are just gonna have to get used to my style of livin'."

"Five-star hotels," Dean paused to look at Rowan, and his grin widened, "huh, think we could get used to that, right, Jay?"

"Uh huh, Chipmunk," Joshua muttered tiredly, yawned again and laid his head against Dean's shoulder.

"So I guess it's all settled then," Dean said as they reached the Chevelle, and he gently placed Joshua in the back seat and buckled him in. "You're coming with us."

"What about my car?" Rowan glanced over his shoulder at his sleek Audi, then with a frown creasing his brow, he looked back to Dean. "Really like my car, Dean."

"Consider it a sacrifice, Rowan." He nudged his head toward the passenger's side as he opened the driver's side door and slid behind the wheel.

"Where we headed," Rowan asked as he got in the car, then looked once more to his car before refocusing his attention on Dean.

"Was thinkin' maybe Vegas. Always wondered what the penthouse suites looked like." With a smile, Dean turned the key in the ignition, revved the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot, heading west.


	13. Chapter 13

_Thanks so much for reading and reviewing... as always, let me know what you think as i really do live for reviews!! bambers;)_

_Chapter Thirteen_

"We're losing him."

Jax vaguely heard someone say, although he couldn't figure out who the faint voice was referring to. Feeling a jolt of electrified pain, he arched forward then eased back into the softness of the bed he was laying on. With another jolt, a surreal floating sensation overtook him, and panicking, he tried desperately to grab hold to the edges of the bed, but his hands refused to budge.

"Shock him again," the voice said, more clearly this time.

As another volt of electricity surged though him, Jax drifted free of his body to float above the room. Not quite understanding what was happening, he glanced down on his body, lying motionless as doctors and nurses worked frantically to start his heart again. He then noticed the heart monitor, but couldn't bring himself to feel any sadness when he saw the flatline running across the screen.

His fingers lightly traced over the gash on his forehead then trailed downward to the wound in his upper arm, knowing he should be feeling some sort of pain, but only felt a strange peacefulness.

From the hallway just outside the door, Jax heard lowered voices, and within a heartbeat he was standing beside the two men.

"He . . . he's dying," a man with short scruffy hair, who looked vaguely familiar, said to the taller man.

"Yeah, I know," the darker-haired man said with a nod of his head. "Heard his blood stop pumping through his veins as I was heading here to get you."

Jax quirked a brow, puzzled by the weird statement the taller man had just said.

"Can't die," the shorter man uttered, a pained expression on his face. "Sam needs him."

"An' Joshua needs you, now get your ass moving," the dark-haired man ordered, green eyes narrowing on the shorter man as he pushed him forward. "Can't help Jax if you don't help Joshua first."

The scruffy-haired man grabbed hold of the taller man by the arm, halting him in his steps. "What's that supposed to mean? You know something you're not telling me."

"Know a lot of things, Dean, thought you'd figured that out by now." After saying this, the older man began to walk away.

_Dean?_ Jax stared in utter disbelief at the scruffy-haired man with green eyes, and for the first time noticed the subtle similarities between him and Sam._ It can't be . . . he died . . . Sam said he died. _Jax waved his hand in front of Dean's face, but the eldest Winchester didn't even bat an eye._ If he supposedly died, what the hell is he doin' here? An' why wouldn't he let Sam know he's alive?_

"Why the hell are ya doing this ta yer brother?" Jax fumed, clenching his fists, furious that Dean would go on allowing Sam to believe he was dead. Gripping a hold of Dean's shirt, Jax looked him dead in the eye, but Dean didn't even appear to notice. "He needs ya . . . why the hell would ya do this ta him?"

"If Joshua dies, will Jax die as well?" Dean went on to say, completely ignoring Jax's question, and the other man stopped dead in his tracks. When the older man failed to respond, Dean gave a curt nod. "He will," he said, answering his own question.

"Answer me, Dean," Jax shouted, "why the hell are you doin' this to Sam?" He waved his hand in front of Dean's face again, and realization suddenly struck him. _He can't see me . . . neither of them can see me._

The older man swung to look at Dean, a pained expression on his face. "Look, Dean, don't know how this is all suppose to play out. Only He can know that," he gestured toward the heavens, "but there is a link between Joshua and Jax . . . an' from what I can gather from," he hesitated as if he wanted to say something important and then changed his mind, "from what I gathered, Jax is like . . . well, for lack of a better term, a holy spirit."

_What the hell are they talkin' about? _Jax looked from one man to the other, his brows furrowing in utter confusion. _Holy spirit? That doesn't even make a lick of sense._

A sudden jolt surged through his body again, and Jax gasped for breath. He fought desperately to stay where he was, needing to hear the rest of the conversation, but it was as if his body was being sucked back into the emergency room. _No, not yet . . . need ta know_ _. . . ._

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"No, Bobby, haven't heard anything yet." Sam pulled his cell phone away from his ear, thinking he heard someone call his name, but then saw one of the nurses heading toward another man. "You'd think someone would've told me somethin' by now."

"Will be there in about an' hour," Bobby tried to reassure, yet the slight tremor in his voice bespoke of his concern. "Jus' leavin' the graveyard now."

"An' there was nothing there?" Sam asked for what must have been the tenth time in so many minutes. "No sign of a fire or any broken headstones?"

"Like I told ya before, Sam, all I saw was Amy's open grave." Bobby heaved a weary sigh, and Sam could just imagine the older hunter scrubbing a hand through his scruffy beard. "Salted and burned her bones."

"Doesn't make any sense, Bobby," Sam uttered as he mentally went through all that had happened earlier in the night. "Her grave was empty when we were there."

"An' this demon, he just disappeared?" there a was a note of disbelief in Bobby's tone when he said this. "Bashed the hell out of Jax, an' then just vanished without finishing him off?"

"Yeah, can't explain it." A worried frown creased Sam's brow, knowing the demon could have killed them both, but chose to only attack Jax. "Think it has something to do with Nick though. Jax called out to his brother right before the demon disappeared, which makes me think that whatever demon we're dealing with is possessing Nick."

"An' ya weren't angry with Jax at all before the hunt?" Bobby asked the question Sam had been waiting for and also dreading since he'd first called the older hunter. "I'm just sayin'," the older man quickly back peddled, "well, you know, I had to ask."

"I didn't do it, Bobby," Sam adamantly denied, "I know with what happened . . . I really didn't do it."

"An' ya didn't black out at all?" Bobby managed to ground out, although Sam could tell it was killing him to have to question Sam's integrity. "I mean, you've been under a lot of stress what with Dean — "

"Said I didn't do it." Sam abruptly cut Bobby off, now angry that his word on the matter wasn't good enough. "It was a damn demon. If you don't freakin' believe me, just ask Jax . . . ." Sam's voice trailed off as he worried that neither of them would ever get the chance to speak to Jax again. "Look, I understand you had to ask, Bobby, I would've probably done the same thing if I were in your shoes, but Ruby's gone." Sam opened his mouth to say something more, but when he noticed a nurse heading in his direction, he paused.

"Mr. Matthews," the nurse said, and when he nodded, she gestured for him to come with her. "Your brother has been asking to see you."

"Bobby, got to let you go," Sam uttered as he followed the nurse. "I'll see you when you get here."

"Alright, Sam, will be there shortly," Bobby said, and then hung up.

Sam pocketed his cell, and returned his attention to the nurse. "How's Jax doing?"

The petite blond-haired nurse cast him a brief reassuring smile. "It was touch an' go for a while, but he's stabilized now and wanted to speak to you."

"So he's gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, he'll be pretty sore for a while, but all in all, he was really lucky."

Relief flood Sam's features as he heard Jax was going to be all right. "Thanks," he managed to utter, and fell silent as she led him down the long corridor to Jax's room. At the entrance to the hospital room, the nurse showed him in, and then left to continue with her duties. Sam stood in the doorway for a few moments, staring at the younger man who had almost died because of him, guilt eating away at his insides.

_If you had died . . . God, what was I thinkin' taking you out on a hunt? _He made to take a step inside the room, but his legs, feeling like wriggling jell-o, wouldn't budge. _Should've realized you weren't ready . . . probably never will be. Should just leave you here, you'd be better off without me. _Sam turned on his heel, ready to leave the younger man behind, when he heard Jax calling out to him, and swung back to face him.

"Where the hell do ya think you're goin'?" Jax shifted uncomfortably in his bed, trying to push himself into a sitting position, but after a moment, he gave up and rested back against his pillow. "Not gonna let a little thing like a near death experience bother ya, are ya, Sam?" Stifling a groan, Jax chuckled weakly.

"Not funny, Jax, you could've died."

"So, I only get one chance, is that it?" Jax quirked a brow, wincing as he touched the bandage on his forehead. When Sam failed to respond, Jax gave a curt nod of understanding. "Why are ya still even here? Could've snuck away while I was out of it, an' that would've been the end of it."

"Wanted to make sure you were okay," Sam mumbled as he look anywhere in the room except for at Jax, knowing what he would see written clearly across the man's face if he did. "An' I wanted to say . . . ." Sam hesitated, never thinking it would be so hard to say goodbye to the younger man who had really been a pain in his ass more times than not, but still had trouble forcing the word past his lips. "Goodbye." He paused for another moment seeing the pained expression that crossed Jax's features that Sam was certain had nothing to do with his injuries. "Spoke to Bobby an' he said you could stay with him for a while. So you don't have to worry about finding a place to stay."

"Got it all figured out now, don't ya?" Jax replied in a low tone, filled with sad bitterness. "But what if I don't wanna stay with Bobby?"

"Look, I promise I'll find Nick for ya," Sam went on to say, trying his best to ignore Jax's comments.

"Don't need ya to find Nick for me, Sam," Jax grumbled, "can find my own damn brother," he fell silent for a moment as he scowled at Sam, and then added, "hell, I'll even find your brother while I'm at it."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Seeing the determined glint in Jax's eyes, Sam took a hesitant step into the room.

"Means just what I said." Jax shifted in his bed to look out the window, apparently finished with talking to Sam on the matter.

"Dean's dead," Sam muttered, hating the sound of the words on his lips.

"So's Jim Morrison an' Elvis, yet they seem to pop up quite a bit for dead guys," Jax's muttered without turning to look at Sam.

"You saw . . . you saw Dean?" Sam said in a whispered rush, praying for all he was worth that he hadn't misunderstood Jax.

"Bye, Sam," Jax uttered dismissively as he sunk deeper into his covers, and closed his eyes. "Hope thinks work out for ya."


	14. Chapter 14

_so last chappy!! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing... as always, let me know what you think as i really do live for reviews!! bambers;)_

_Chapter Fourteen_

"He won't even talk to me, Bobby," Sam said as he handed Bobby a cup of coffee, then took a seat on the opposite side of the table. Heaving a sigh, Sam glanced over to where Jax was resting on the bed in their motel room. Although Jax appeared as if he was sleeping, Sam had a feeling the younger man was listening to every word he said. "An' you saw how he was when I went to pick him up at the hospital. Acted as if I wasn't even there."

"Well, what did ya expect, Sam?" Bobby took a sip of his coffee before glancing over his shoulder at Jax. "Told him you were leavin', an then you just go an' show up at the hospital like nothin's changed." He refocused his attention on Sam, took another gulp of his drink and set the cup down. "Course he's gonna think the only reason ya came back for him is because ya think he knows somethin' about Dean."

"That wasn't the reason," Sam argued, although deep down he knew it was a good share of the reason he'd relented in his decision. "Didn't want him out there looking for his brother on his own."

"But ya do think he might know something about Dean, right?"

If Sam wasn't mistaken, he thought he'd noticed Jax shift closer to the edge of the bed as if to hear Sam's response better. If he was awake and listening, Sam wasn't about to give the younger man any more reason to hate him by telling Bobby the truth.

"No, I mean, how could he possibly know anything about Dean?" Sam managed to lie convincingly, and had to grin when he saw the small smile play across Jax's features.

Jax didn't need to know that Sam had done extensive research on out of body experiences after Dean had nearly died, and he'd been able to contact him using a spirit board. The younger hunter also didn't need to know that Sam believed it highly probable that Jax had seen Dean when his heart had stopped. Yet, what he was still trying to figure out was why Dean would be at the hospital in the first place, and if he was there, was it in spirit or corporeal form. He prayed with all his heart it was the latter, but had a sinking feeling it was the former. But whichever it was, it meant that Dean was still somewhere around, and if he was, there was still a chance to save him, and that was the hope Sam was clinging so desperately to at the moment.

"Besides," Sam continued on, "can't let him go it alone with that demon after him." He hesitated when he saw the doubtful look cross Bobby's features, hating the idea that the older hunter still believed that it might have been Sam who had hurt Jax in the graveyard and not a demon like Sam had told him repeatedly. However, he sensed there was no point in arguing over the matter, so he forced a smile and further added, "An' I can't leave him with you cause the two of you would probably end up killing each other."

"Oh, I dunno about that," Bobby pushed back in his seat, and folded his arms across his chest. "I mean, sure he's not great with a gun, or a crossbow or pretty much any weapon known to man," he chuckled, hearing Jax let out a low groan from behind him, "an' of course he's clumsy, breaks stuff, irritates the hell out of my dog, talks too much," another groan escaped Jax as he rolled over and covered his head with the pillow, "not to mention that he couldn't make a good cup of coffee to save his life or clean up after himself and pretty much — "

"Damn it, old man," Jax tossed the pillow aside in aggravation and slowly sat up in bed to glare at both of them, "I'm goin' with Sam . . . ya happy now?"

"Only if you really want to," Bobby said as he gave Sam a playful wink, and Sam nearly choked on a laugh. "I mean, I can always buy a new washing machine, sure the other one was only a few weeks old when ya decided you were gonna do some laundry. Still not sure how the damn thing caught fire, but things like that must happen to you all the time. Course I'll have to get a new bed for the guest room as well . . . still not all that sure what happened there."

"That's wasn't my fault, it was his," Jax jabbed a finger in Sam's direction, and Sam's eyes widened, feigning a look of complete innocence. "Dumped buckets of freakin' ice cold water over my head every damn mornin' for a week straight. All I was tryin' ta do was dry the dang thing out so I could get some sleep."

"With my blowtorch?"

"So maybe upon reflection, it wasn't the smartest thing ta do, but I didn't see ya offerin' any suggestions." Jax was now on his feet, his anger bringing the color back into his cheeks that had been missing since he'd been injured. Unsteadily, he made his way to the couch and began shoving clothes into his duffel.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Sam said as he leapt to his feet, afraid that Jax meant to leave on his own. "The doctor said you needed to take it easy for a week or two at the very least."

"I'm headin' ta Vegas, an' if yer plannin' on joinin' me, then I'd suggested ya get yer crap packed up cause from what I hear, there's a nest of vamps there that need beheading."

"Funny, I heard the same thing," Sam said with a curt nod, smirking in Bobby's direction, knowing that Jax had been listening to every word they had said earlier. He refocused his attention on Jax, all traces of a grin disappearing from his features as he added, "I'm driving, you need to rest an' regain your strength if you're gonna help me kill all those sonuvbitches."

"Don't think I ain't still mad at ya, Sam," Jax grumbled as he slowly tugged on his t-shirt and tucked it into his jeans. "You an' Bobby think yer so damn smart, think yer trickin' me into doin' exactly what ya wanted me ta do." He grabbed his duffel, grimacing at the weight of it, and hefted it over his uninjured shoulder. "But if ya think really hard about it, maybe, jus' maybe, I'm the one who got my way here." He trudged toward the entrance of the motel room, calling back over his shoulder, "Cause, after all, I'm not the one who wanted to stop huntin' with ya. So who really got suckered here, cause I'm so thinkin' it wasn't me." With that, Jax walked out the door.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Dean, don't understand what we're still doing here," Rowan complained again for what must have been the hundredth time in so many days. "Already got us a penthouse suite booked in Vegas, Josh's fever has been gone for days, an' for what it's worth, you made me leave my Audi behind, which has probably already been towed away by now." An angry frown creased the vampire's brow as he stalked back and forth in the small expanse of the motel room. "Did I fail to mention how much I loved that car? Cause I'm not really feelin' like you care at the moment."

"Pretty sure coveting your car would be considered a sin." Dean briefly glanced in Rowan's direction, grinned at his friend's growing aggravation, and then returned his attention to watching Spongebob with Joshua. "Isn't that right, Jay?"

"Uh huh, Chipmunk." Joshua snuggled closer to Dean, and Dean wrapped his arm protectively around the little boy.

"Oh, an' this coming from the man who calls his Impala, Baby," Rowan rolled his eyes, "least I didn't name my car."

"Hey, my Impala's a classic, show her a little respect," Dean grumbled as jabbed the remote control to flip through the channels, stopping short when a picture of an all to familiar female came up on the screen. He quickly turned up the sound, and held his breath as he listened to what the news reporter had to say.

_"The body of Bela Talbot was discovered in these woods,"_ the reporter gestured toward the dense foliage behind her, _"by some hikers, early Friday morning. By reports from local law enforcement, it appears as if the body had been here for quite some time. As her body was burned beyond recognition, dental records were used to identify Miss Talbot's remains. Local police are urging anyone who might have any information pertaining to the ongoing investigation into the murder of Miss Talbot, please contact them directly._

_Damn it, Sammy._ Dean flipped off the television, and flung the remote across the room in anger and frustration. The remote slammed into the wall, and fell to the floor, broken in pieces. On his feet, Dean began tossing his clothes into his duffel. "Get packed, we're headin' out of here in five minutes."

Rowan looked from Dean to the broken remote and then back again, and raising a questioning brow, he asked, "What's the rush all of a sudden? Doesn't have anything to do with Bela and Sam, does it? Cause you of all people should know by now that things aren't always as they appear to be."

From what Dean was starting to learn of Rowan, the vampire seemed to always have the inside track on what was going on, and he had a sneaking suspicion this time was no different. But what he also knew of Rowan, he realized he was going to have a helluva time getting him to impart whatever information he did know about Bela's murder.

"You know something, don't you," Dean asked, eying the vampire suspiciously.

"Like I've said a million times, Dean, there isn't much I don't know." Rowan grabbed his leather trench coat and slipped it on. "But like I also said before, some things just require faith."

"So you're sayin' Sam didn't kill her?"

"I'm not sayin' anything, Dean." Rowan cast him a rakish grin as he ruffled his fingers through his hair. "That's for you to decide."

"Why the hell can't you just give me a straight yes or no answer for once," Dean snarled, zipping up his duffel, and then began gathering Joshua's clothes together.

"I would," Rowan chuckled, "but I just love seein' that angry little tick you get in your right cheek when you're really pissed off at me."

Dean opened his mouth to further argue when a knock on the door stopped him short. Eying, Dean, Rowan raised his index finger to his lips then headed to the door to look out the peephole. He swung back quickly, a deep scowl forming on his dark features.

"Take your stuff an' get in the bathroom now, Dean," he ordered in a no nonsense manner, their earlier discussion completely forgotten. A second more persistent rap came at the door, and Rowan nearly growled in frustration. "Now, Dean."

"Who the hell is it?" Dean questioned, thoroughly perplexed by Rowan's sudden change of demeanor.

"You're brother."

"Sam?"

"Well, unless you have another brother I don't know about, yeah, it's Sam so get your ass movin'."

Dean didn't need anymore coaxing than that to have him sprinting toward the bathroom door. Rowan quickly called Joshua over to him, crouched beside the little boy and gestured toward the door. "Josh, I can't answer the door, Sam's already seen me, an' it'll raise his suspicions if he sees me here with you. So I need you to answer the door an' whatever you do, don't let him know about Dean, okay?"

"Gotcha." Joshua said, bobbing his head several times. "Still playin' hide-n-seek on Sammy. An' it's his turn."

"Exactly," Rowan gave a playful wink as he ruffled Joshua's hair. "Jus' tell him your Dad's in the shower, an' whatever you do, don't let him come inside."

"'Kay, Uncle Rowan."

Assured that Joshua would do as he was told, Rowan rushed toward the bathroom to hide.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Tell me again, what the hell we're doin' here, Sam?" Jax asked as Sam peered into the window of the black Chevelle, looking for any signs that it was a car that belonged to another hunter, or more specifically if it belonged to Dean.

On the floor of the vehicle, he spotted several peanut M&M wrappers, and although that didn't necessarily mean anything, it still gave Sam hope that he wasn't wrong. "I just have to know, Jax."

"Seriously, dude, what are the chances that this is Dean's car, an' he's inside that motel?"

Sam looked all around, and not noticing anyone, he quickly broke into the Chevelle, determined to find something belonging to Dean. The first place he checked was the glove compartment, and wasn't disappointed when he yanked out a Colt 1911, Dean's weapon of choice. He proudly showed it to Jax, thinking it was proof enough to determine the car belonged to his brother.

"So you found a gun, whoopdie-freakin'-doo" Jax rolled his eyes, heaving a weary sigh, "lots of people own them, Sam, not like they're one of a kind items."

"Naw . . . you don't understand," Sam argued, knowing in his gut that he was right, "this is Dean's favorite type of gun, he always used one just like this."

"So it couldn't possibly be some mass murderer's favorite weapon of choice, too?" Jax grabbed hold of Sam's arm and dragged him out of the car. "Sam, you have to let this go, he's gone."

"You don't understand, Jax," Sam jerked free of Jax's grasp, "Peanut M&M wrappers thrown on the floor, Dean's favorite food," he said as if that should be evidence enough that it was Dean's vehicle, "and now this," he held the gun aloft, "I'm tellin' ya this is his car."

"Where did he get the car, Sam?" Jax reasoned. "I mean, this car is in mint condition, custom detailed, hell, the rims alone probably cost more than the two of you made in a year."

"He could've stolen it," he hastily replied, "wouldn't be the first time."

"An' just left a stolen vehicle parked out front here where anyone could see it? Thinkin' yer brother was smarter than that."

"Maybe he borrowed it then," Sam supplied as an alternative, knowing Dean would've been too smart to park a stolen vehicle where anyone could spot it.

"Right," Jax replied sarcastically, "cause people just tend ta loan out really expensive custom showcase vehicles ta strangers."

"You know what, I'm not gonna stand here an' argue about this with you," Sam swung around and headed toward the motel door closest to the car.

"What the hell are ya doin?" Jax called out to him, and then hurried to catch up. "You're just gonna make a fool outta yerself."

"Gonna prove to you that it's Dean," Sam said as he rapped on the door.

"Sam, let's just go," Jax yanked on the sleeve of Sam's hoodie when no one immediately answered. "Seriously, it's not him."

Sam knocked more impatiently on the door, not about to leave until he knew for certain it wasn't Dean inside the room. Several long minutes passed by, and just when Sam thought no one would answer, the door swung open halfway and a little boy shaded his eyes and glanced up at him.

"Hello, I'm Joshua" the little boy chirped, brushing his shaggy bangs out of his eyes. "You lookin' fer someone?"

"Yeah," Sam mumbled dejectedly, feeling his heart plummet into his stomach.

"See, dude," Jax gestured toward the little boy, "can we just go now."

Sam ignored Jax as he hitched a thumb in the direction of the Chevelle, hoping that it might've just been the wrong room. "Is that your car."

"Naw . . ." the little boy giggled, "can't drive yet, too little. It's my Daddy's car."

"Your Dad's car." Sam gave a curt nod, shoulders sagging a little more at the thought that he'd been so wrong in thinking it could've belonged to Dean. "It's a real nice car."

"Uncle Rowan likes his Audi better, but we had ta leave it behind," Joshua chattered away, not noticing that Sam was trying desperately hard not to break down in front of him.

Sam quickly peered inside the room, and saw neither of the men that Joshua had spoken of, and his suspicions were once again aroused. He knelt beside the little boy so that they were on nearly the same level, and looked Joshua squarely in the eyes. "Can I talk to your Dad?"

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Heart hammering away inside his chest, Dean pressed his ear to the door, straining to hear his brother's voice. Rowan sat calmly on the ledge of the tub with arms crossed, but Dean was positive if he made the slightest movement toward opening the door, Rowan would be on his feet in a shot to stop him.

"Only five more months, Dean," Rowan said in a voice that was just above a whisper, "so, don't even think about openin' that door."

"Wasn't gonna," Dean snarled, hating the vampire at the moment. "So why don't ya just shut the hell up."

"Look, don't be mad at me cause you made that damn deal," Rowan cruelly reminded, "wasn't my doing."

Dean swung to glare at Rowan, and scowled at the smug look on the vampire's face."No, what you did was far worse," he spat venomously, "so don't sit there bein' all self-righteous cause we both know what the hell you are."

"I see." The smile slid from Rowan's feature as he gave a curt nod. "Cutting a little below the belt there, huh, Dean." Rowan stood, turned his back on Dean, and leaned against the wall. He rubbed his eyes and then turned to look at Dean. "I know what I've done, have paid the price a thousand times over for it. Not that it even comes close to making amends, but I don't need some damn smart-ass hunter throwing it in my face when all I've ever done so far is try an' help you."

Dean could clearly see the look of hurt and pain in Rowan's eyes, and wanted to take back what he'd just said, knowing Rowan had spoken the truth, but knew the vampire would never accept his apology. "Just don't want you to think you're any better than me," he said instead of what he really wanted to say, and could tell that it hadn't made matters any better.

"Never said I was, Dean," Rowan muttered and then fell silent.

Not knowing what else to say, Dean returned his attention to listening to what Sam and Joshua were talking about, and cursed out loud when he heard the answers Joshua was giving to Sam's questions.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Naw . . . Daddy's in the shower," Joshua smiled as he rolled his eyes, "takes real long showers, uses all the hot water, an' I always have ta wait."

"How about your Uncle," Sam asked, not ready to give up just yet, "can I talk him?"

Joshua hitched a thumb in the direction of the bathroom, and giggled. "Naw, he's in the shower, too."

"Oh . . . ummm . . . ." Sam blushed profusely, understanding dawning on him about Joshua's Dad and supposed '_Uncle' . _

"See, Sam," Jax chortled, barely containing outright laughter at Sam's sudden embarrassment. "Josh's Dad and Uncle are takin a shower together, nothin' strange there, think we can leave now?"

"Shut up, jerk," Sam muttered, not bothering to look at Jax, but knew if he did, Jax would break down and laugh all the harder.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Damn it," Dean cursed, glaring at Rowan again, "Jay just told Sam we were showering together. How the hell am I suppose to explain that to my brother after this is all over?"

"Tell him I scrubbed your back then you scrubbed mine," Rowan chuckled, his humor apparently returning at the thought of Dean tumbling over his words to explain that they weren't actually showering together, and all the ribbing he would get from Sam thereafter.

"So not funny, Rowan."

"Actually, it's really hilarious, if you bother to think about it," he said, laughing all the harder.

"You suck," Dean grumbled as he returned to listening to the conversation outside the bathroom.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Look, I'm sorry we bothered you," Sam apologized as he stood to leave. "Jus' thought . . . well, I really hoped . . . ." his voice trailed off, knowing that Jax was right. The man who owned the Chevelle wasn't Dean. "Well, my brother, Dean, really loved classic cars, an' I just thought . . . but he's not . . . we should go."

Sam was about to turn away when Joshua tugged on his sleeve, effectively stopping him from leaving. "Don't be so sad. Yer not a very good hide-an-go-seeker, but you'll find Chipmunk sometime." He smiled brightly, proudly displaying a missing front tooth. "He's jus' a really good hider."

"You think so," Sam smiled back, not understanding what the little boy meant, but still feeling a little bit better nonetheless. "Maybe I just need to try a bit harder, huh?"

"Uh huh," Joshua bobbed his head, "cause hide-an-go-seekin' gets real borin' after a while," he rolled his eyes. "An' the Chipmunk really, really wants to be found."

"Does he now?" Sam chuckled.

Joshua glanced over his shoulder at the bathroom door, and then looked back to Sam, leaning in closer to whisper, "he's really sad . . . don't tell anyone, but I heard him cryin'."

"He was crying," Sam said, playing along with the little boy, "sounds like he really wants to be found. Maybe you should look for him."

"Naww . . ." Joshua gave him another huge grin, "wants you ta find him."

"Well, I'll be certain to keep my eye out for him then," Sam chuckled as he turned to leave again. "Take care of yourself, Joshua."

"Only five more months, Sammy," Joshua called out, and shut the door as Sam quirked a puzzled brow and turned back to glance in his direction.

"Well," Jax muttered as he clapped Sam on the back, "I think that went well. Can we get goin' now?"

"Yeah," Sam mumbled as he wondered what the little boy meant when he said 'only five more months'. "Long drive to Vegas so we better get movin."

_Chapter End Notes:_

_So, the next story in the series is going to be called Crucible Creed, and i should begin posting it very shortly!! hope everyone is enjoying the series so far!! please let me know what you think as it is the only way i'll know if i'm doing the story justice!! thanks again for reading!! bambers;)_


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